


Having The Faith To Soar

by MurkyMuse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, Minor Character Death, Yuri cusses a lot, local grumpy cat takes on a stray kitten apprentice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurkyMuse/pseuds/MurkyMuse
Summary: “She’s pretty good. I always hate running her off the ice.”“She’s terrible,” Yuri snapped as she fumbled the combination. However, the girl quickly pushed herself up and continued. “Who the hell is coaching her?”“No one. She’s self-taught.”During one of the worst weeks of Yuri Plisetsky’s nineteen years, he stumbles across an amateur figure skater and inadvertently becomes her mentor of sorts.For Vera Kotova, who has been dreaming of figure skating since she was eight but never been able to scrounge up the money for proper lessons, it’s like an answered prayer.





	1. The Ice Tiger Of Russian Meets A Stray Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> I did not plan to ever write for the YOI fandom but I got this idea and next thing I knew I was writing it. Also I don’t know how realistic this is because, while I’ve been researching, my knowledge of figure skating is limited. I’m hoping I hit the right range of impressive af but not completely unbelievable in terms of the OC’s initial abilities.

Vera was eight years old when her life changed.

The house was unsettlingly quiet. She turned on some music – a song from some American Broadway that her father had always loved – to chase away the silence as she fixed a bowl of cereal. With food made, she then climbed on the cough and flipped through channels in search of cartoons. However, the sight of a sparkling outfit suddenly caused her to pause.

“Here’s Russia’s next generation, Yuri Plisetsky. He is skating ‘On Love: Agape’,” The tv announced.

Then the skater glided and twirled and soared like he was born to fly across the ice. Vera’s heart pounded, and her eyes were glued to the screen. The commentators seemed excited but all she could truly hear was the music. A longing bloomed in her chest.

Vera wanted that. She wanted to do that.

When the routine ended, Vera set her untouched cereal on the coffee table and then skittered down the hall. She wasn’t allowed to use her mother’s laptop but it’s not like her mother was there to stop her.

Vera watched the rest of the skaters while she googled and prayed that there was an ice rink nearby.

* * *

_A Few Years Later_

* * *

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

The condolences were repeated again and again. Yuri was sick and tired of hearing them. He’d cussed out Viktor and Katsudon when they’d called to check on him and said that dreaded sentence. Yuri was very tempted to repeat that – the offensive words on the tip of his tongue – but he swallowed back the bitterness when Lilia put a hand on his shoulder.

Funerals were awful.

It’s a small funeral; just the family, grandpa’s friends and neighbors, Yakov, and Lilia. As soon as they began tossing dirt into the grave, Yuri turned and stormed away. He ignored the burning in his eyes and how his vision was starting to blur.

“Yuri,” Yakov said as they caught up to him, “Take a few more days off.”

He whipped his head to glare at his coach in disbelief. “What?!”

“If you get on the ice now, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Yuri huffed. He wanted to skate. He wanted to pour all his grief and anger into the ice until he couldn’t feel anymore.

Yakov stared at him knowingly. “I’m not letting you on the ice with that mindset.”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want me to fly up?” That was the first thing Otabek asked when they skyped later that night, after the train ride back to St. Petersburg.

Yuri’s frown deepened. “…Focus on training. We’ll see each other soon enough.”

Otabek nodded but worry still creased his face. If anyone else was giving him an expression like that, Yuri would be tempted to throw something at them. Since it was Otabek and since Yuri couldn’t throw anything all the way to Almaty, he let it go.

Yuri switched topics after that and was silently grateful that Otabek went along with it. Talking late into the night about movies and the plan to visit the Beijing Zoo during the Cup of China helped him forget, if only for a few hours.

* * *

Yuri woke up the next morning before dawn. Pure habit had him nudging his cat over so he can climb out of bed. It wasn’t until he was brushing his teeth that he remembered Yakov had barred him from skating for the next few days.

Yuri muttered a string of curses at that.

He got ready anyway to go on a jog around the city. The way everyone was going about their morning business – ignorant that there was now a gaping hole in his life – only pissed Yuri off. He glowered at anyone who had the misfortune of glancing at him.

By the time lunch rolled around, Yuri found the idea of staying in the city sickening. He ate a sandwich mechanically – without tasting it – and then grabbed his keys.

On his first trip to Almaty, during the off season after his senior debut, he had convinced Otabek to teach him how to drive a motorcycle. He’d eventually bought his own as well.

Yuri hopped onto his bike and revved it. Then he drove away from St. Petersburg. If Yakov wouldn’t let him pour his grief onto the ice, then dammit he was going to pour it into driving far far away.

It’s only when he needed to fill up the gas tank that Yuri stopped. He pulled into some rundown gas station in a small town of somewhere hours west of St. Petersburg. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, coloring the sky in red and purple. It’s picturesque enough that Yuri briefly considered taking a photo.

He didn’t.

Yuri was about to get back on his motorbike when he noticed the sign for an ice rink just down the road. He was slightly surprised a town like this even had an ice rink. While he had no intention to skate, like a magnetic pull, he couldn’t help but drive over to it.

Looking at it from the outside, it wasn’t very impressive. He parked his bike and went up to the entrance, skimming over the times on the door. Apparently the rink would close in about fifteen minutes. Yuri walked in anyway.

The inside wasn’t very impressive either. Not only was the building old but all the equipment was obviously out of date. Small town, Yuri reminded himself. The manager gave him an odd look from his place behind the counter. Yuri ducked his head, hiding his face beneath his coat hood.

“We’re closing soon.”

“I won’t stick around long”, he replied before marching straight toward the rink.

There was only one person on the ice. The skater was a young girl with earbuds in her ears and sweaty from exertion. She rose a slender arm to the sky as if reaching for something grander.

Yuri stopped dead in his tracks. He knew that pose. He recognized the choreography that she slid into. It was his senior debut short program, On Love: Agape. She shifted her momentum in time with the musical cues that Yuri couldn’t hear but still knew by heart and muscle memory even years later. The girl glided across the ice as light as a feather and yet there was a heavy weight to her movements.  It was as if her skating was a prayer laid bare on the ice.

(In the back of his mind, Yuri thought of the way Katsudon drew people in so that they couldn’t look away.)

Yuri frowned. Despite that, the girl’s technical skills were riddled with mistakes. She barely managed the first jump, a single axel in place of his triple.

The manager walked up beside him. “She’s pretty good. I always hate running her off.”

“She’s terrible,” Yuri snapped as she fumbled the combination. However, the girl quickly pushed herself up and continued. “Who the hell is coaching her?”

“No one. She’s self-taught.”

Something twitched inside Yuri. She was butchering a scaled down version of his program but for her to be good enough to even attempt it without coaching…

Yuri’s frown deepened as he watched her struggle through the program, absentmindedly noting all her faults. Finally she entered the ending pose, clasped hands raised to the heavens.

The manager glanced at his watch and then yelled, “Vera! It’s about closing time!”

The girl dropped her arms and turned to look at them with a pout. She then glided over and yanked her earbuds from her ears. She eyed Yuri warily as she slumped onto the nearest bench and began unlacing her rental skates.

“Brat,” Yuri said, “What’s this I hear about you not having a coach?”

She glanced back up at him and stared intently. Yuri wasn’t surprised when her hazel eyes went wide in recognition a split second later. She yelped and leaped into the air like a startled cat.

Yuri looked down at her and managed to hold back a laugh. The girl pinched her cheek.

“Ouch. Okay, not dreaming.” She then looked over to the manager. “Why is Yuri Plisetsky here?”

The manager’s jaw dropped as he spun to Yuri. “Yuri Plisetsky?!”

“I was passing through and happened to stop here,” Yuri answered with a shrug, “I saw you skating.”

The girl’s face went bright red, and she suddenly found the floor very interesting.

Yuri then listed off every single mistake she made: the barely savaged landing of her single axel and the other jumps she’d messed up, her bad posture during the basic spin she did, and the missteps during the step sequence.

She stared back up at him wide-eyed. Water pooled in the corner of her eyes.

Yuri paused mid-sentence. Shit, Lilia would murder him if she heard he’d made a little kid that was clearly a fan of his cry!

The girl rubbed her face and scrambled up to dart away. Yuri was about to call out to try to salvage the situation; offer a selfie or autograph or both. However, the girl didn’t go far. She stopped in front a beaten and battered school bag to pull out a notebook and pen.

Then she came back.

“Um, can you repeat that please? I want to take notes…” She asked, looking at him in a way that reminded Yuri of how his cat would just stare when she wanted something.

“I will, but first I want to know why you don’t have a coach?”

A look of sad resignation passed across her face. “…Can’t afford one.”

Yuri remembered what it was like to be unable to afford things he wanted. He’d originally only gotten lessons because an old friend of his mother’s had agreed to coach him at a discount. Up until he won his first competition at least.

Eventually he’d been able to support his family and career through prize money and sponsorships but if he didn’t have that initial connection… He probably wouldn’t be where he was now.

“Can you come back here tomorrow?” Yuri asked.

She frowned, thinking for a moment, before nodding.

“Good. If it’s okay with your parents, I’m going to give you a private lesson.”

For the briefest of seconds a dark cloud covered her eyes, but then she lit up like a Christmas tree.      

* * *

Yuri found a cheap motel nearby. The second he shut the door to the room, he pulled out his phone to call Yakov. His coach answered on the second ring.

“Yuri?”

“I need you to come to-” He paused and had to look up the name of the town before relaying it.

Yakov let out a long, tired sign. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid?”

“What? Do you think I’m in jail?”

“…..”

“I’m not!” He shouted before taking a deep breath. “Look, I found this kid with potential but no coach. I want you to come watch her skating and see what you think.”  

* * *

After getting back to the house, Vera had jumped and danced around until she’d finally burned enough excited energy to fall asleep on the couch.

When she woke up the next morning to the beeping of her alarm, the lights were still on. The house was silent and empty. Vera frowned. Her mother hadn’t come home again.

Vera pushed herself off the couch to get breakfast and then get ready for the day. The promised skating lesson later on put a hurried edge into her step. It was still hard to believe that the afternoon before had been real! THE Yuri Plisetsky had offered to spend a few hours teaching her!

…There had to be a catch, right? World famous figure skaters just didn’t teach random kids for an afternoon, right?

Vera decided that she didn’t care. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. But first she had to get through the school day.

* * *

Yuri was waiting at the ice rink when the girl, Vera, bounded inside. She stopped short about a meter in front of him, bouncing on her heels and staring at him.

Fuck. What had he been thinking? Yuri wasn’t a coach; he had no idea how to teach figure skating. He could give tips to other advanced skaters but this was different…

She continued to stare with those big kitty-cat eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Screw it, Yuri thought with a huff, it was just for an afternoon.  

“Go get your skates on,” he said.

She nodded and hurried to comply. Soon enough Vera was on the ice, while Yuri hung back and gave her instructions. Not to keep Yakov’s order to stay off the ice but because he didn’t have his skates and really didn’t want to use old, smelly rentals.

“Remember what I said about your posture. Fix it.”

“Hold your arms closer. There, like that.”

“Lift your leg higher before going into the jump.”

Vera listened to him like she was lost in a burning desert and he was offering water. Now that she had explanations for what she was doing wrong, it was obvious how much focus she was putting in to fix the problems. Sweat beaded for forehead; and, her muscles were straining from the effort.

“Take a breather,” Yuri said after a few more minutes.

Vera turned to him with an expression that was oddly familiar. “I’m not tired yet. I can keep going.”

Yuri picked up a water bottle and held it over the rink wall toward her.

“You need to stay hydrated.”

She pouted but skated over and took the bottle from him.

“Have you ever thought about competing?”

Vera nearly dropped the water bottle at the question. She then took a long drink before forcefully setting it on the side of the rink.

“I can’t afford it.”

Yuri frowned. “But if you could, is that something you would want?”

Vera glanced down at her feet as her ears turned red. Her voice was a whisper, “I just…want to skate like you do…”

Yuri knew he had become an inspiration and aspiration for kids the world over, but how the hell was he supposed to reply to that?

He was saved from coming up with an answer when the door was pushed open, signaling Yakov’s arrival. He gave Yuri a stern glare before turning his attention Vera. She looked at him hesitantly, almost like she hadn’t decided if he was a threat or not.

“This is my coach, Yakov.”

“…I know.”

“And this is Vera Kotova.”

Yakov glanced between them and then raised an eyebrow. “Let’s see it then.”

“Ready to run through the whole thing?” Yuri asked.

Vera nodded and then glided toward the center of the rink. Yuri moved over to where his phone was plugged into a speaker and hit play. The moment the music began to drift across the rink, Yakov recognized it.

“This is-!”

“Watch.”

Yuri had been a little worried that skating in front of him and his coach would make Vera too nervous to do well. However, once she began to skate, it was as if her world had fallen away to nothing but the ice and the song.

A few hours’ worth of guidance would never be enough to iron out the bad habits she’d unintentionally formed. That would take months of hard work under the tutelage of a good coach. However, it was enough for her to smoothly land the first jump. Her one foot spin was just a little tighter too.

Next up was the combination. Her momentum as she leapt into the salchow had a note of elegance. However, she slipped the landing of toe-loop. Her hand touched the ice but she didn’t let it faze her and continued without missing a beat. Her next jump, another toe-loop, was flawless and led seamlessly into the step sequence. While it was a simplified version, her feet moved with the grace of someone who poured their entire being into each motion.

“You said that she’s self-taught?” Yakov asked as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Unless you count the tips I’ve given her the past hour or so.”

“Hmm.”

Vera shifted into the last spin. It was a little sloppy; the exhaustion catching up to her. Then finally she reached for the sky as if pleading to the heavens.

There was a moment of silence before Vera let her arms drop and turned to them, red faced and panting for breath. This time Yuri held back his critique (for now) and settled for an approving nod. She beamed as she skated back over to them.

“Are you sure you never took lessons?” Yakov commented.

Vera shook her head. “This rink used to have a coach but I could never afford lessons and then he moved…”

“Are you’re parents here? We might be able to work something out.”

“Really?!” Her excitement then faded into a grimace. “I can call my mom.”

Not bothering to remove her skates, Vera thumped over to her bag and pulled out a cell phone from the side pocket. She fidgeted as the other line rang. Eventually she signed as she looked back at them.

“Sorry, it went to voicemail.” She then turned away from them to speak into the phone. “Um, mom, could you come down to the ice rink before it closes? There’s, ah, a coach here that wants to talk to you. Please?”

Vera hung up and turned back around with a smiled that seemed forced. “She’s probably covering an extra shift for someone at her work.”

“Alright, we might as well go over your mistakes while we wait,” Yakov announced, “Yuri, get on the ice but no quads.”

“I don’t have my skates,” he flatly replied.

“They’re in my car.”

So while they waited, Yuri went through his practice. Part the way through Vera called out asking for him to do a triple toe-loop. On a whim, Yuri did the jump. Vera then called out another and another.

Until finally she asked, “Can I try a double?”

Yakov sighed the sigh of a coach whose students rarely listened to him. “All athletes need to understand their limits and know when to stop before they hurt themselves.”

“Why are you looking at me”, Yuri demanded.

Yakov spoke again to Vera, “You need to build on your basics more first.”

She huffed but reluctantly nodded.

It was almost closing time before the manager brought in Vera’s mother. She had a too large coat over a waitress uniform; and, the same shade of not quite blond but not quite brunette hair as her daughter. She glanced around the rink with a deepening frown before walking toward them.

“Vera! Why did you call me at work over _this_?” She sounded annoyed. Like her daughter’s hopes and dreams were something trivial that should be cast aside.

Yuri hadn’t been oblivious to all the sad and dark expressions that had passed over Vera’s face whenever her parents were mentioned. Even now she wore a mask of blank resignation, as if she’d been fully expecting her mother’s reaction.

Did the kid have _anyone_ who cared enough to support her? Something inside Yuri snapped at that thought. He growled and stomped his foot down.

“Your daughter has the talent and drive to become a world class figure skater! Like hell will I let some old hag let that type of potential go to waste in some stupid backwater town!”

“Yuri!”

Yuri whipped his head around to glare at his coach.

“Let me talk to Mrs. Kotova, privately,” Yakov ordered.

As his coach led the rather stunned woman off, Yuri felt a tug on his coat. He glanced down to meet Vera’s hopeful eyes.

“Did you really mean that?”

Yuri smirked. “I don’t spend time giving advice to just anyone.”

* * *

“When I told you to take a few days off,” Yakov said later, after most the details had been figured out, “I never imagined you’d find a stray to adopt.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Vera was eleven years old when her life changed again.


	2. Practice, Practice, Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m Vera Kotova, a self-taught amateur skater. Through an unlikely twist of chance, THE Yuri Plisetsky saw me skating and was impressed enough to call his coach! Now I’ve been whisked away to St. Petersburg so I can train under one of Coach Feltsman’s associates. Meanwhile, the Grand Prix Series continues with the Cup of China! I can’t wait to see Yuri skate again!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Vera groaned and rolled over to reach for her noisy phone on the nightstand. The screen glared with a notification: Ballet Practice. Vera practically rolled out of bed and turned the alarm off.

Ever since moving to St. Petersburg, she had a very strict schedule to keep. Six mornings a week she had alternating physical training and ballet practice. Of course, she had school after morning practice five days a week. Her favorite time of day was the afternoon when she was able to practice ice skating.

“You might have some potential but you currently lack a solid foundation to build on,” Coach Feltsman had told her, “If you want to seriously compete, training needs to become your life.”

What else did she have in life anyway? A dead father and a mother that barely paid attention to her. Vera would gladly throw her body and soul into the only thing she did have: ice skating.  

So, while her sore body longed to sleep another hour or two, Vera quickly got ready and left for the ballet studio. As she exited the apartment building, the sounds of the city – cars, people, seagulls – invaded her ears. The tall buildings and crowded streets were vastly different from the sparse town she’d lived in up until now. It was still a little overwhelming; she hadn’t yet felt comfortable wandering outside her bubble of apartment-gym-ballet studio-school-ice rink.

Maybe if she asked nicely when the season was over Yuri would go with her to explore the city? He did say he’d check in on her progress, even if he hadn’t been specific on when. But with the Cup of China quickly approaching and then the Grand Prix Finals after that… Then Nationals and then World’s… Vera wasn’t expecting to see Yuri Plisetsky again any time soon.

That was okay. She’d work really hard so that next time saw him, he wouldn’t regret giving her this chance.

Vera’s drifting thoughts cut off as she pushed the door open and entered the ballet studio.

* * *

The rink was strangely empty and quiet when Vera got there. She checked her phone and realized that she’d somehow managed to arrive a good fifteen minutes early. It was still unusual because this rink was typically open to the public right before the skating class. Maybe someone had booked it earlier?

Vera shrugged, not caring about the specifics, and went to put on her skates (that they were truly _hers_ and not rentals still made her grin). She hadn’t gotten a chance to skate alone in weeks. There was no way she wasn’t going to take advantage of the empty rink.

As she skated out onto the ice, she put her earbuds in and stuffed her phone in her pocket.

_Sic mea vita est temporaria, cupit ardenter caritatem aeternam_

Vera hadn’t attempted skating Agape since moving to the city. Now she felt a difference in her skating. Her balance was even more stable; her motions were both more fluid and precise. She smiled softly before going into her first jump.

The sound and feel of blades against the ice as she made a perfect landing was beautiful and thrilling. Feeling even more confident, she continued to flow with the music.

Once she and the music came to a still, Vera blinked and realized that she’d gathered a small audience. Coach Lebedeva was standing rinkside with a bemused expression. A few of Vera’s rinkmates were there as well; their faces filled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. One girl, who had her hair in a high ponytail, had her phone held up to take a video.

“Um…”

Vera’s cheeks felt a little warm; and, she wasn’t sure what to say. However, her rinkmates broke the silence for her.

“That was so cool!”

“I didn’t know you could land an axel!”

“How long did it take you to learn that?”

“Thanks. I first managed it about six months ago. And a few years,” she managed to answer.  

Before anyone could say more, Coach Lebedeva clapped her hands to get their attention. “Alright everyone, stretch and get your stakes on. And, Anya, don’t post that video online without Vera’s permission.”

Anya guiltily put her phone down, shooting an apologetic smile, and then went to get her skates on.

Once the rest of her rinkmates joined Vera on the ice, Anya skated up to her, “Some of us are watching the Cup of China at my house later. Do you want to come?”

Vera wanted to say that she’d go but the words got stuck in her throat.

“…I can’t. I have to finish a project for school,” she lied.

“Oh, maybe next time.”

“Yeah.”

The awkward pause was broken as Coach Lebedeva instructed them into edge drills. As it could be expected from a group of pre-teens, the class was an organized chaos. Students laughed and joked while skating in every direction; and, the coach would call out corrections or glide over to help when someone was struggling. Despite all that, practice always seemed to go by quickly to Vera. Soon enough her rinkmates were heading off the ice. When Vera didn’t follow them, the coach gave her a look but said nothing. Vera took that as permission to continue and stretched into the Biellmann position again.

As parents arrived to pick up her rinkmates, she tried not to pay them any attention. However, it was impossible to completely block out the drifting chatter.  

“Anya,” the voice was soft and sweet, “How many of your friends are coming?”

Anya listed off half the class. Excited giggles echoed across the room as Anya’s mother began ushering the group toward the door. Vera frowned as she switched the positions of her legs and went into a spin.

It was only after all her rinkmates had left that Coach Lebedeva’s called out, “That’s enough for today. If you practice much longer, you’ll miss the men’s short programs.”

Since the Cup of China didn’t start for another hour, Vera figured the coach was just saying that because she wanted to leave but couldn’t with a student still on the ice.

“I’m coming,” she replied as she skated off the rink.

* * *

That Seung-gil guy was about finished with his short program; the crowd cheering as the commentators exclaimed in excitement over the flawless combination he just landed. It was at that exact moment reality suddenly hit Yuri like a freight train.

“Yuri,” Yakov’s voice was distant, “Come on. You’re up next.”

He felt rooted to the spot, unable to move. The ground seemed oddly distant and blurred as well.

“Yuri?” A hand lightly placed on his shoulder. Lilia. “What’s wrong?”

Wrong?

Grandpa had rarely been able to come to his competitions but he always watched them on tv. Now, for the first time since Yuri moved up to the Senior division, Grandpa wasn’t sitting at home with the tv on to watch him skate.

A sob was building in the back of his throat. Yuri bit it back as a kernel of molten anger settled in the pit of his stomach. He absolutely refused to breakdown here and now! He could get through this! He could get out there and give one hell of a performance!

He just _needed to move._

“Yura.”

He glanced around until his eyes found Otabek. His friend’s expression was as stoic as ever but Yuri knew him well enough read between the lines. There was no pity found in Otabek’s gaze, just the certainty that no matter what Yuri would give it his all. That he would soldier through.

“Davai.”

Yuri took a deep breath and then gave Otabek a thumbs up.

“It’s time,” Yakov said.

Yuri nodded and began walking toward the rink. He had a medal to win.  

* * *

The next night found Yuri kicking the locker room wall and muttering insults under his breath. He honestly didn’t mind losing gold to Otabek but he lost silver to Seung-gil?! What the hell?!

“Between the gold from France and this bronze, your spot at the finals is secure,” Yakov stated from behind him, “You’ll do better there.”

Yuri glared at an invisible point. “I will.”

* * *

Hours later Yuri knocked on a hotel door. It took a minute for it to open and reveal Otabek. Seeing Yuri, he opened the door wider and shifted aside. Yuri walked right in and immediately sprawled on the couch.

“I’ve sat on more comfortable benches.”

Otabek simply nodded before nudging Yuri so that he’d make room. Yuri grumbled but complied. Then Otabek just waited for the rant he knew was coming.

“Yakov didn’t even lecture me! He always lectures me after I skate!”

“He’s trying to be sensitive.”

“Well, it’s weird! I don’t want him tip-toeing around me!”

Otabek hummed in response.

“It’s bad enough that Katsudon and Viktor keep calling to check on me,” he continued with a grimace, “Bleh! I swear if Lilia goes easy on me when we get back to St. Petersburg I’ll kick someone.”

Otabek’s mouth tugged up ever so slightly, unnoticeable to everyone but those that knew him best.

“Not Lilia,” he said.

Yuri gave him an incredulous look. “Hell no! I don’t have a death wish!”

There was a beat of quiet as his word choice sank in. Then Yuri rolled off the couch and ended up face down on the floor.

“The carpet is more comfortable than that stupid couch. Someone should complain to the hotel.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it,” Otabek replied, his voice so flat that it was impossible to tell if he were joking or not.

“Good.” Yuri pushed himself back up and leaned against the couch. “We’re still going to Beijing Zoo before the exhibition show tomorrow, right.”

Otabek nodded. “You’d disown me if I tried to back out.”

“Damn right I would.” His eyes suddenly went wide like he remembered something important. “Oh! Watch this.”    

Yuri then pulled out his phone and swiped until he found the video he wanted. Otabek leaned over Yuri’s shoulder as he started the video. It was of a young girl skating with familiar movements.

“The kid you mentioned?”

“Yeah. Yakov’s friend sent the video yesterday,” Yuri answered, “Would you believe she’s only been formally training for less than two months?”

Otabek watched to the end before replying, “Then she has overwhelming natural talent.”

“Right!”

* * *

The students were gathering their things and trailing out the door when Vera’s phone started playing Allegro Appassionato in B minor. The teacher gave her a disapproving look but couldn’t say anything since it was time to leave. Vera stuck her tongue out once the teacher glanced away. She then unlocked her phone to see a text:

Vera let out an excited noise that earned her a few odd looks from her classmates. She didn’t notice though as she quickly gathered her stuff and zipped up her coat. Then she was out the door.

The air outside was chill; and, the ground was damp from it drizzling earlier in the day. Vera’s breath turned to mist as she glanced around. It didn’t take long to spot Yuri. He was leaning against the fence with his hoodie pulled over his head and scrolling through his phone.

“Yuri!”

He looked up as she sprinted over to him.

“Didn’t you just get back from China? I watched your programs!”

“We got back a few days ago,” he replied, “Come on. Yakov will yell if we’re late.”

Yuri began walking down the sidewalk; and, Vera had to practically jog to keep up with his long strides. She filled the walk with questions about his trip. While Yuri was happy to answer general questions about China, his replies about the competition itself were short and sharp. Vera fell silent after a few minutes.

It didn’t take much longer for the building to come into sight; its sign had ‘Sports Champions Club’ spelled out around the flag. There were a few people milling outside the entrance but they weren’t dressed to skate or workout. Yuri suddenly stopped in his tracks. Vera stopped a step later and looked back at him questioningly.

“Da-” He glanced at Vera and made an annoyed sound. “Tch. Can’t the reporters let me train in peace.”

Since they had yet to notice him, Yuri grabbed Vera’s hand and started walking.

“We’ll sneak past them and go through the back.”

He led her around the side of the building to an ‘employees only’ door. Either someone had left it unlocked or it’d been purposely left that way for this situation. Whichever reason, they were able to get inside without any issues.

Once they’d passed through a storage area, they entered the main lobby. Vera blinked as she took everything in. It was large but not overly crowded; just a few employees going about their work and a group of men with hockey shirts talking to each other. An employee greeted Yuri and gave Vera a curious look but everyone else ignored them.

They entered the rink then. Only Mila (THE Mila Babicheva!) was on the ice, spinning and jumping as she practiced what Vera recognized as her short program for the season.

“Woah.”

“There you are!” Coach Feltsman shouted.

Yuri joined his coach by the ice, while Vera trailed behind him. He began stretching as he replied, “There are reporters out front again.”

“It’s because you refused interviews after the Cup of China.”

“They can stay out of it,” he replied darkly.

“You won’t be able to dodge them forever.”

Vera, feeling a little lost by their argument, went back to watching Mila skate. How cool was it that she would be sharing a rink with both Yuri Plisetsky AND Mila Babicheva, if only for a day?

Mila’s short program practice run soon ended. She glided over and grabbed a water bottle, listening while Coach Feltsman critiqued. However, she soon spotted Vera and leaned over the rink wall.

“So this is the little kitten you’ve adopted, Yuri,” she said with a wide grin.

Vera blinked. “Kitten?”

“Shut up, hag!”

“I can still lift you.”

Yuri groaned in annoyance. Mila turned back to Vera.

“What’s your name?”

“Vera Kotova.”

“Kotova, huh?” She laughed. “See, she is a kitten.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and went to put on his skates, grumbling all the while. Mila continued smiling after him.

“…Um,” Vera said as she tapped Mila’s arm to get her attention, “You’re my favorite female skater.”

Mila stared at her a moment before shouting, “Yuri! Yakov! We’re keeping her!”  

Yakov just shook his head at his students’ antics. “Mila, work on that step sequence again. Yuri, warm up.”

Mila returned to skating, while Yuri finished lacing his skates and went to the opposite side of the rink. Vera stood there not sure what she should do until Coach Feltsman snapped at her.

“What are you waiting for? Stretch and then get your skates on.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

It wasn’t long before she too was on the ice, working on basic drills before she moved on to practicing her jumps. Maybe it was because she had been watching Yuri and Mila practice out of the corner of her eye but a thought suddenly popped into her mind: What if she tried a double?

With that idea urging her on, Vera jumped higher and spun faster. A full rotation… 540 degrees… a full 720 degrees! Vera’s heart leapt in excitement for a split second. Then her blade landed wrong. She tried to counter-balance but it was too late. She hit the ice with a solid thump.

“Ow.”

The sound of blades gliding to a stop echoed in her ear. When Vera looked up, both Yuri and Mila were staring down at her in mild concern.

“I’m okay,” she said as she scrambled up.

“Vera!” Coach Feltsmen yelled from the side of the rink, “Have you been given permission to start practicing doubles yet?”

Vera glanced down guilty. “…No.”

The coach’s frown deepened, while Mila snickered.

“You fit right in.”

Vera blushed at the compliment.

“You botched the landing because your foot was angled sloppily,” Yuri commented.

She nodded and then glanced back over at Coach Feltsman with pleading eyes. “Can I try again?”

He stared at her a moment before answering, “We might as well see if you can manage a half decent double salchow before practice is over.”  


	3. Jarring Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vera watches the Grand Prix Finals. Yuri competes, but struggles more than expected.

For a split second it felt like she was flying. Then once again Vera hit the ice with a solid thud. The chill leaked through her clothes, numbing what promised to be a large bruise after nearly a dozen failed attempts at landing a double toe loop.

“Vera, take a break,” Coach Lebedeva called.

“One more time,” she answered as she pushed herself back up, “Then I will.”

Vera skated around once more, building up a little momentum, and then leapt in the air. The rink seemed to spin around her for that fraction of time. Then her blade hit the ice; it was a wobbly land but she did it!

Her rinkmates paused from their practice to cheer. Vera grinned as she glided over to the rink wall. Coach Lebedeva had that exasperated but proud smile on her lips.

“Don’t get too excited just because you did it once,” the coach said as she handed Vera a water bottle, “You need to be able land it consistently.”

Vera took a long drink of water before screwing the lid back on. “Coach Feltsman already gave me this talk.”

“I’m sure he did but I’m reiterating it. You have a bad habit of rushing ahead the second you think you’ve learned something.”

“Fine. I’ll keep working on my double salchow and toe loop until you say I can start practicing another jump.”

“Your camel spin needs work too.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vera groaned as she passed the water bottle back over.

Coach Lebedeva smiled. “But, if you can keep at this pace, I think you’ll be ready in time for the local novice competition coming up in a few months.”

Vera’s face lit up. “Really?!”

“Yes,” she replied before shooing her student off, “Now break’s over. Go practice your camel spin.”

She took to the ice again with a determined gleam in her eyes.

Eventually the day’s practice came to an end. Vera, as usual the last to be dragged off the ice, was unlacing her skates when a pair of bright pink sneakers entered her field of vision.

“You’re coming this time right?”

She glanced up to meet Anya’s curious face. “What?”

“To watch the Grand Prix Finals at my house this weekend. You said you would.”

Had she said that? Vera tried to remember that conversation. At best she recalled giving a non-committal answer, but Anya must have taken that as an agreement. Vera’s first instinct was to think of another excuse to avoid it. However, the hopeful and excited look Anya was giving her made Vera reconsider.

“I guess…I did?”

Anya grinned. “It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah…”  

* * *

Vera glanced around the apartment as they walked inside. It was a little cramped with furniture and scattered toys. Photos of Anya, her siblings, and her parents lined the walls. The home was warm and comfortable in a way Vera only vaguely remembered. It made her feel out of place, like she was intruding somewhere she didn’t belong.

As the other girls shrugged off their heavy coats, Anya’s mother went to the kitchen to fix snacks. Anya skipped over to the couch and flipped on the tv. The rest quickly followed her and piled on the couch in the way that only the small and determined could.

“Vera, are you just going to stand there?”

“Oh right,” she replied, blushing and hurrying to take off her coat, “Your house is nice…”

“Thanks!”

Vera squeezed on the couch next to Anya just as she got the right channel up. The male figure skaters were warming up before the short programs began. At the sight of them all, a few of the girls let out high pitched squeaks.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“Yuri Plisetsky.”

“Plisetsky.”

“Yuri Plisetsky.”

“Yuri Plisetsky.”

The girls all looked at each other and started giggling.

“His home rink is here in town,” Anya commented, “I saw him once at the park! I wanted to ask for an autograph but I was too nervous.”

Vera wondered how they’d react if she mentioned that all the days she’d missed practice were days she got to spend with Yuri. Maybe she should ask Yuri for an autograph for Anya and the others? It wasn’t exactly a secret but Coach Feltsman did warn against making the connection public. Something about avoiding unnecessary pressure and scrutiny. Vera didn’t really get it but she didn’t want to be yelled at by the coach.

It was probably best to not mention it to her rinkmates yet.  

“He’s also gorgeous,” Anya added, pulling Vera from her thoughts.

“He’s way too old for you,” Anya’s mom said as she entered the room, a large plate of various snacks in hand. She set the platter down where everyone could reach and then settled in the only empty chair.

“Mom! I can have a celebrity crush!”

Vera grimaced. “That’s…weird.”

“What?”

“You having a crush on Yuri,” Vera answered, waving her hand like that explained it, “It’s just really weird.”

“How’s that weird?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“Shush! It’s starting!”

Their voices quietened; and, they all turned their attention to the screen. As Vera watched the Czech man preform his short program, a flutter of excitement raced through her. She suddenly realized that the Grand Prix wasn’t a distant, impossible dream. One day that could be her.

No. It would be.

“I’m going to compete at the Grand Prix when I’m old enough.”

Anya nudged her side with an elbow. “You’ll be great.”  

* * *

Yuri’s short program was going smoothly. He prepared for his next jump and leapt-

“Next up is a combination jump- what impressive height!”

_A hand, gentle and warm, ruffled his hair. “That was a high jump, Yurochka.”_

Yuri hit the ice. The pain and chill snapped him back into focus. He quickly pushed back up and continued, blocking out the announcer’s voice. He couldn’t let himself get distracted like that again.

“What happened with that combination?” Yakov demanded as soon as Yuri stepped off the rink.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, “I’ll make up for it in the free program.”

He could feel Yakov and Lilia’s eyes on his back as he headed for the kiss and cry.  

* * *

Yuri was the third to step out on the ice for the free program, gliding out to the cheers of the crowd. Fourth place left a bitter taste in his mouth. He needed to use his free program to claw his way up the podium. Back load his jumps in the second half. Make use of Tano variations – that was more difficult for him now than it used to be, but when push came to shove he could still raise his arms during jumps.

Yuri got into position and, when the music started playing, began to skate.

* * *

 It was just enough to earn the second step on the podium and a silver around his neck.

* * *

The gold and silver medalists of the men’s singles Grand Prix – plus one intoxicated coach – sat around a table of the Gala banquet, taking a respite from mingling with all the reporters and sponsors.

“You’re getting old, Katsudon. You should end your career on a high note and retire for good like the balding old man,” Yuri said after taking a sip of his champagne glass.

Viktor gasped in horror and clung to Yuuri, “Yurio’s being so cruel.”

Yuuri patted his drunken husband’s head as he spoke, “We know he doesn’t mean any of that.”

“I meant the part about Viktor balding.”

Viktor let out a sob. “So mean…”

“I think your hair looks wonderful,” Yuuri replied automatically, which prompted Viktor to cling tighter and sloppily kiss his face.

Yuri gagged. “If you two are going to be gross, do it where I don’t have to see it.”

Yuuri reluctantly pushed Viktor away. “Come on, Vitya, I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

“But Yuuriii, you haven’t had anyyy.”

Yuuri stood and grabbed Viktor’s hands to pull him up. “That’s because we’re not allowed to get drunk at the same time anymore. Not after the Barcelona banquet.”

Yuri shuddered at the memories of both Barcelona and Sochi. There were things no fourteen or fifteen year old was meant to see. His nineteen year old self didn’t want to see any of it either.    

“That’s a horrible rule!” Viktor whined as Yuuri started to lead him away.  

“Hey, Katsudon,” Yuri called after them, “I’m going to knock you off the top of the podium at World’s.”

Yuuri turned back to him with a challenging smirk and was about to reply-

Then the moment was ruined by the most aggravating person ever literally sliding into the conversation.

“You’ll have to settle for another silver medal,” JJ announced, “Because I’ll be making my glorious comeback at World’s! That’s JJ Style!”

Yuri pushed his chair back in his rush to stand up. “Why the hell are you even here?! Don’t you have a newborn to fuss over!”

“My parents are helping Isabel with Jaqueline so I could scope out the competition in person. Not that I need to, of course.”

Yuri could only reply with a strangled noise and a barely held back urge to throw a chair at him.  

“Always so angry,” JJ said with a shake of his head, “One day all that anger will burn out and then what will you do.”

“I’ll beat you with the power of spite!”

Yuri glared at JJ a moment longer before stomping off. He wandered around the banquet hall in search of Otabek so he could suggest they make an escape from the stuffy party. Yuri finally found him when he overheard voices drifting from the balcony.

“Yakov expected him to do something reckless and get hurt or arrested.” That was Mila’s voice.

“We all thought it was a possibility.” And that was Otabek.

Normally Yuri would be annoyed they were speaking alone because he’d made it very clear to Mila in the past that he didn’t want her trying to date his friend. That would be awkward and gross. (She had laughed when he said that, calling him immature and the jealous type.) However, that they were obviously discussing him made Yuri freeze.

“In a way, this makes me more worried,” Mila continued, “He’s hurting but instead of lashing out, he’s distracting himself from it.”

“I can’t tell if it’s good or bad that he is,” Otabek replied.

Something in the undertone of Otabek’s voice finally made Yuri snap out his stillness. He kicked the wall, loud enough that they heard it, and then spun around to walk away.

“Yuri!”

“Yura.”

He ignored their calls as he left the banquet hall. Either they were smart enough to not follow or he walked too fast for them to catch up. Yuri caught the elevator and ended up in tense silence with some non-figure skating related hotel guest. That silence ended with a chime signaling his floor.

Yuri quickly reached his hotel room and unlocked the door. As he walked inside, he shrugged off his suit jacket and carelessly tossed it to the floor. It was just when he’d collapsed on the bed that his phone went off. He glanced at it and, seeing that it was a text from Otabek, completely ignored it.

He checked his through his social media instead. The hectic schedule of competitions always put social media on a back burner. He had messages from Yuuko and some fellow skaters, but most were from fans congratulating him on silver or talking about some aspect of his programs. There were also a few despairing comments about how he’d ditched a fan meeting again, but really they should be used to that. He’d been avoiding those every chance he got since his fanclub first formed.  

(He tried to ignore the comments about how his total score was still lower than it had been at the beginning of the season and that he’d only won silver by a fraction.)

Once he was sufficiently caught up on his social media accounts, Yuri curled beneath the covers and fell asleep.

* * *

* * *

Yuri found Otabek waiting in the hotel lobby. Since neither of them had much time before they needed to catch their flights, they settled for the hotel’s complimentary breakfast. Once food had been piled onto plates, the two found a table on the far side of the room. Yuri grumbled over the bland food and cheap jam packets while making his morning tea.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Otabek finally spoke, “It’s been a rough couple of months for you. We’re just concerned.”

“I don’t need anyone talking behind my back about it. I can take care of myself.” Yuri pointed his fork to punctuate the sentence.

Otabek stared at him with an unreadable expression. “No one doubts that.”

“Then fucking act like it.”

Before Otabek could reply, Yuri’s phone went off. Seeing who the caller was he reluctantly answered.

“Where are you? We leave for the airport in ten minutes.”

“Calm down. I’m getting breakfast. Yeah, yeah. I’ll go get my bags.” He hung up and looked apologetically at Otabek. “I better go before Yakov blows a gasket. See you at World’s.”

“See you at World’s.”

* * *

Yuri hadn’t questioned why he had been so insistent on making sure the kid he’d stumbled across skating a version of one of his short programs had a chance. It had been simple: he’d seen a mix of natural talent and raw dedication that caused her to reach a surprising level of skill alone. It would have been a crime to let such potential go to waste. That was the logic behind it.

And yet…  

Yuri was once again waiting outside her school to take her to practice. It shouldn’t be much longer since students were starting to leave the building. Just as he thought that, Vera’s voice called out.

“Yuri!”

He had a split second to register what was about to happen before Vera launched herself at him. For a tiny eleven year old girl, her jump had a lot of force; only his training kept him from losing his balance as he caught her.

“If you’re going to do that, I might need to practice lifts.”

Her hazel eyes glittered at that. “Really?”

“You’re not going to let that go now are you,” Yuri replied, immediately realizing that putting the idea in her head was a mistake.

Vera shook her head a vehement ‘no’.

“…We could convince Mila to distract Yakov for a while,” he said as he set Vera down, “Just don’t tell her why.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll want to video it and post it online.”

“Oh.”

As they walked down the busy streets toward the ice rink, Yuri listened to Vera complain about school (it apparently took valuable time away from skating; a sentiment he had shared when he was younger) and ramble about her training progress (“I can consistently land the double salchow now.” “You can?” “…Mostly.”).

Yuri smiled. Somehow getting to spend time with the kid like this left him feeling lighthearted.    


	4. Can You Hear My Heart Beat?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m Vera Kotova, a novice figure skater! My first competition ever is coming up! I’m really excited and am going to try my best! ...Woah, this place is really crowded. I’ve never skated in front of so many people before…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, this is the longest chapter yet. 
> 
> While I put a lot of effort into figuring out a level appropriate program for Vera, I am not a skater and could have missed something/messed up. If something doesn’t fit, feel free to correct me. Also I ended up avoiding stating a score because I don’t fully understand how the PCS is weighted and couldn’t find any references to what the normal range is for novice level.

“Watch closely,” Coach Lebedeva said before skating through the choreography of what would be Vera’s first program for a competition.

Vera paid close attention, committing every motion to memory. She had replayed online videos of Agape so often that she’d trained herself to hone in on even the tiniest details of the choreography. Compared to that, the choreography of this program was simplistic. Vera privately thought that she’d have the basics down after running through it a couple of times.

“Come here, I’ll guide you through the first part,” her coach said once she’d finished, waving Vera onto the ice.

* * *

Vera dropped her school bag on her bedroom floor. She then pulled out her phone from her pocket and dialed.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“I can’t answer the phone right now,” her mother’s voice said, “Leave a message.”

Beep.

“Hey, mom…Um, my first competition is in February here in Saint Petersburg. I was wondering if you would come? Call me back when you can.”

Vera sighed has she hung up and then flopped down onto her bed.

* * *

Standing in his apartment living room, Yuri flipped the gold medal in his hand.

While there were a few promising skaters in juniors that might be worth his attention in a few years, there hadn’t been any who could seriously challenge him at Nationals since Viktor retired for good. Now that Georgi was retired too, there wasn’t a single one that could come close to him.

Even on a bad day for him – why the hell did _Moscow_ have be the host city this year? – the competitors couldn’t close the gap enough to steal away his title of National Champion.

Yuri placed his newest gold on the trophy shelf with all his other medals.

It felt like a hollow win.

* * *

“A lot of figure skaters fail to fully engage their music,” Coach Lebedeva told them, “They make the mistake of considering it less important than the technical components. However, engaging the music makes the difference between a mediocre performance and a performance that captures the audience.”

“Like Yuuri Katsuki?” Anya asked.

The coach nodded. “Consider him the ideal you want to strive for.”

While Anya ran through her program under their coach’s gaze, Vera listened to the music for her program on repeat. It was cheerful and energetic like warm summer days; the type of music that made you want to dance and laugh and have fun. However, there was also something vaguely melancholy as well. The knowledge that summer would eventually end?

Once it was Vera’s turn on the ice, she tried to convey that. It felt off. She knew her movements didn’t quite fit with the music… How could she convey joy and fun but also melancholy at the same time?

_Golden light pouring in from the window. Laughter chiming in her ears as she was led into a dance._

Vera held onto that feeling. She moved with the music to put it into every motion, every step, and every turn.

“That was better,” Coach Lebedeva said when she finished.

* * *

Vera sat cross legged on her bed and stared at her phone in her hand. After a long moment, she finally dialed the number.  

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“I can’t answer the phone right now. Leave a message.”

Beep.

“Hey, mom…My competition is in a few weeks, and I hadn’t heard back from you yet. I just wanted to know if you’ll be coming or not?…Bye.”

Vera hung up her phone and hugged her pillow tight.

* * *

Yuri unlocked his apartment door and walked inside, turning the lights on as he went. His cat came darting down the hall and rubbed against his legs.

“Hey, pretty kitty, did you miss me?” Yuri baby-talked as he bent down to pick his cat up.

He walked down the hall with purring cat in his arms and dropped his luggage off in his room. Once he fed the cat, Yuri dug his newest medal out of his bag.

The medal shone silver. Second place in the European Championships wasn’t bad but… If Emil Nekola hadn’t sprained his ankle less than a week before the competition, Yuri most likely would have ended up with bronze.

It seemed like the longer this season dragged on, the lower his scores dropped. Perhaps not by much but it was just enough to be noticeable. Enough that people – reporters and fans – were starting to wonder if something was wrong with him.

Yuri placed the silver on his trophy shelf and then collapsed in a heap on the couch. His cat soon joined him, kneading his stomach. Yuri absentmindedly scratched her behind the ears.

“…I’m tired.”

“Meerow.”

* * *

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“I can’t answer the phone right now. Leave a message.”

Beep.

Vera opened her mouth to speak but then closed it and hung up.

* * *

Yuri knew something was off the moment Vera greeted him. Sure, she seemed as excited as ever when she tackled him but her hold was tighter than usual. It was like she was reluctant to let go. Then the walk to the rink was unusually quiet; Yuri had to practically pry out how her day was.

Practice wasn’t any better. She ran through her program, working out lingering weak points under Yakov’s critical eye, with a sullen air.

“What’s up with Vera?” Mila asked as she set her elbow on his shoulder. It was an awkward angle since he’d outgrew her three years ago but Yuri had long stopped questioning Mila’s eccentricities.

“I’m not sure.”

“Nerves?” She suggested, “Her first competition is this weekend.”

“Maybe.”

When Yakov called for a break, Vera went straight for her bag and pulled out her phone. Yuri walked over to stand beside her, ruffling her hair to get her attention. Vera quickly dropped her phone back into her bag and then looked up at him.

His brain screeched to halt.

“Are- are you crying?”

She rubbed her watery eyes dry. “No.”

Yuri could respect her refusal to acknowledge any theoretical tears. However, he still felt like he should ask.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re upset?”

“…I haven’t heard back from my mom…I don’t think she’s coming to my competition…”

“Oh.” He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. “When was the last time you talked to your mother?”

Her head hung lower at the question.

“…About a week after I moved.”

Anger was perhaps the emotion Yuri was most familiar with. There were many different types of anger: aggravation at an asshole that didn’t know when to shut up, frustrated wrath that a certain idiot living legend forgot yet another promise, rebellious rage that just sometimes happened when you’re a teenager, righteous fury over a certain piggy trying to retire early, and a bitter core that burned long and slow over the unfairness of life.

Looking at Vera’s downcast face, Yuri found more fuel for that last type of anger.

However, as much as he wanted to rant and yell (because what the hell?! that woman had gone _months_ without checking up on her kid!), doing so in front of Vera probably wasn’t a good idea. Instead he bent down so that they were eye level.

“Maybe your mother won’t be there, but if you want me to then I’ll come.”

“But you have to train for World’s, and Coach Feltsman said that-”

“Who cares what Yakov says. I’ll be there.”

Vera stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck.

* * *

As they arrived at the rink for the competition, Vera couldn’t help but notice how crowded it was. The parking lot was filled up. Dozens of kids around her age – some older, some younger – were walking toward the building with coaches and parents. Vera and Anya got their sports bags, while Coach Lebedeva carried their program outfits.

Then it was a whirlwind of getting inside and signed in. At one point while Coach Lebedeva was talking with an event organizer, Anya’s family showed up. Vera stood there awkwardly watching them hug Anya and wish her luck, a pang of longing and jealously shooting through her.

“Hey, kid.”

Vera spun around to find Yuri. He was unusually non-descript, wearing solely neutral colors that lacked any sort of pattern. The hood of his jacket was pulled up; and, he also had a large pair of sunglasses despite being indoors.

She lit up, her previous feelings immediately forgotten. “Yu-”

He bent down and placed a finger over her lips to quiet her.

“Let’s try to avoid causing a commotion.”

Vera nodded.

“Good. I’ll find you after the competition,” he said, ruffling her hair, “Davai.”

Then Yuri stood up straight and vanished into the flow of the crowd.

Anya soon re-joined Vera, her family having left to find a spot to watch. “You never mentioned having a brother.”

“Brother?” Vera blinked, taking a second to register what she meant, and then decided to go with it. If Anya found out now, she’d definitely cause a commotion over it. “Oh, right.”

Coach Lebedeva finished her conversation a few minutes later and ushered her students to the girls’ locker rooms. It was a large room but with so many skaters – each with their own equipment and costumes – it felt cramped. They quickly claimed one of the few free spots left.

Vera unzipped the costume cover to reveal a green leotard dress with a hint of sparkle. Honestly, it made Vera think of Tinkerbell every time she looked at it. She still hadn’t decided if she liked it or not, but it was better than the other options she’d been given.

Once she was changed, Coach Lebedeva attacked her with make-up and hair pins. Despite only keeping her hair about shoulder length, Coach Lebedeva somehow managed to pin it all into a bun. Vera pouted when she looked in the mirror.

“Now I really do look like Tinkerbell.”

“So you don’t want to look like a fairy?” The coach asked with a knowing smirk.

“Not a _Disney_ fairy.”

Coach Lebedeva just smiled and shooed Vera off the bench. “Anya, your turn for hair and make-up.”

Soon enough Anya – in her lavender leotard dress and hair in a French braid – was ready as well. They slipped their coats on over their outfits and then made their way to the rinkside to wait for the competition to begin.

A thick tension filled the building. Many of the skaters were already stretching. Some were speaking with their coaches or friends, passing on words of encouragement and last minute advice. Others had earbuds in an attempt to block out distractions.

“Oh.” Vera gulped as a realization hit.  

Between the retired Viktor Nikiforov having lived in the city most his life and the current Russian champions in both men’s and ladies’ singles training here, Saint Petersburg was essentially the figure skating capital of Russia. Despite this being merely a local competition, that shadow loomed over all of them… Most the skaters here wanted to prove themselves the next Mila Babicheva or Yuri Plisetsky.

“Vera?” Anya asked.

“I think I’m nervous?”

Anya giggled, a clear nervous babble. “Me too.”

Warm up did little to help the twisting feeling in Vera’s stomach. She was starting to wish that she was first just to get it over with. However, she had ended up slotted right in the middle.

Then, as the competition began, Vera found herself unimpressed. There were a lot of falls and sloppy step sequences. Most of the skaters couldn’t keep time with the music. A little of the tension eased off. She was a better skater than everyone who had gone so far. She knew it.

“Vera. Your turn is coming up.”

She took a breath and nodded. She could do this.

“Don’t pressure yourself,” Coach Lebedeva said, “Today is not about winning. It’s to expose you to what a competition is like.”

“What’s the point of competing if I don’t try to win?”

Her coach started to say something else but then shook her head. “Let’s go.”

“Davai!” Anya called.

Coach Lebedeva walked her to the edge of the ice. Vera took off her skate guards, handing them off to her coach.

“You’re up,” the organizer said as he motioned her to step on the ice.

Vera’s heart was pounding wildly as she glided to the center of the rink. Someone was speaking but the words were distorted like she was underwater. The judge panel stared at her indifferently. The crowd waited – dozens and dozens of people. Way more than Vera had ever skated in front of before. She felt the blood drain from her face.

Then the sound of a violin. The music had started!

Muscle memory, thankfully, took over then. But the distraction had cost her to fall just out of time with the music. Vera rushed through the first few motions to catch up.

The first jump was the most difficult for her: the double loop. She jumped into it, rotating her body. If she could land it-

She hit the ice.

No, Vera thought as she pushed up, the important thing was to keep going. No decent figure skater stopped after a fall like that.

She continued on, transitioning into a camel spin. Her body stretched parallel to the ice. Then a shift in the music, her cue for the foot change. The switch went well enough but she couldn’t help but think it was a little sloppy.

Pulling out of the spin meant the combination jump was coming up. Vera took a breath, eerily aware of all they eyes on her wondering if she’d land it, and leapt. She spun in the air and then made a smooth land, nailing the double salchow. Wasting no time Vera jumped again. For a split second she thought she’d nail the double toeloop too but her speed was off. She stepped out at the last second.

At least it wasn’t another fall.

Vera went into her step sequence next. She realized then that her body was too stiff. This was supposed to be about having fun yet she was so worried about everyone watching her that she wasn’t having fun at all.

Stop thinking about the crowd. Pretend it was just Yuri, Coach Lebedeva, and Anya watching. Perhaps that was easier said than done, but Vera tried to focus only on the way her body moved along with the music. Just like in practice.

She danced steps and turns across the ice, the tension slowly easing out of her as she went. As the step sequence ended, Vera leapt into a single axel and landed smoothly. She then shifted onto her other blade and went for her final jump, another double salchow. Her heart soared as she spun mid-air. However, when her blade hit the ice, it was with a slight wobble.

One more element left: a sit spin. Vera controlled the speed so that she came up out of the spin just as the music ended.

Her heart was pounding, no longer from nerves but exertion. That had taken way more out of her than an hour of practice would have. Once her lungs were burning slightly less, Vera remembered to bow for the audience and judges before making her way off the ice.

“You did well,” Coach Lebedeva said as she handed Vera back her skate guards.

Vera put the guards on and then let her coach led her to the side where the kiss and cry was. It wasn’t anything fancy like at big competitions, just a place to sit while the judges calculated the score. When Vera got her score, she let out a heavy sigh. It wasn’t unexpected – not after how she’d messed up at the beginning – but it was lower than she had hoped for.

“Vera,” there was a sharp edge to her coach’s voice, “That’s a good score for your first competition.”

“I guess.”

They started walking back to where Anya was still waiting for her turn to skate. Anya greeted her rinkmate with a bright smile and a hug before being ushered by Coach Lebedeva to prepare for her time on the ice.

When the skater that immediately followed her perfectly nailed a double loop, Vera walked off.  

* * *

By some small miracle Yuri had managed to go unrecognized so far. There was a close call when he saw one of the leaders of his local fanclub (he made a point to know their faces so he could avoid them). Luckily for him, the fangirl had been too invested in her phone to notice Yuri Plisetsky standing barely a meter away. It gave him enough time to casually duck behind a cluster of people.

Yuri had also been a little worried about the kid when it was her turn. With the way Vera paled and her unusually shaky skating, it was painfully obvious that preforming in front of a crowd had overwhelmed her. However, she’d managed to pull through and re-focus enough to salvage the second half of her program.

Now there were only a few skaters left and then the award ceremony. Yuri tapped his foot against the concrete floor. He was half-tempted to sneak back and find Vera. The only reason he hadn’t was because if someone stopped him to ask why he was back there, then he’d almost certainly be recognized.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Since he didn’t particularly care about the current skater, he pulled it out to check the message. What he read made his insides turn cold.

“Fuck.”

Yuri pushed through the crowd and ran around toward the locker rooms. Roza Lebedeva was waiting just outside the organizers, coaches, and skaters only area. Her expression was half panicked and half apologetic.

“What do you mean she’s missing?!” Yuri hissed.

She answered in a rush, “Vera was upset after her program. I thought she wanted to be alone for a bit, but she never came back and when I went looking her stuff was gone. She’s not answering her phone either. The staff is searching for her but I think she left the rink…”

“Dammit. I’ll go look outside. Text me if you find her.”

“You too.”

As Yuri stalked out to the parking lot, he called Vera’s phone just in case. It rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. He hung up and continued looking all around the blocks surrounding the rink and even a nearby park. Yuri didn’t see hind or hair of her. Neither had any of the pedestrians he’d asked.

He kicked at the muddy slush piled on the edge of the sidewalk. “Where would she go…?”

A sudden hunch hit Yuri in the face. He immediately turned around and headed back to the rink parking lot for his motorcycle.

It didn’t take long to drive down to the Sports Champions Club. He quickly parked his motorcycle and stormed inside. A group of hockey players to scattered out of his way.

“What the hell is your problem, Fairy?!” One shouted after him.

He didn’t dignify that with an answer, not when he had a stupid brat to find. The second he walked into the rink his hunch was proven correct. Vera, having not even bothered to change out of her program outfit, was there on the ice.

In fact, she was skating her program all over again. The harsh edge of frustration was carried with every movement, but there was also a refinement to her skating that had been missing earlier. Despite how exhausted she had to be from competing and then trekking across town, she nailed jump after jump. Her other elements were sharp and poised too.

If Vera had skated like this earlier, then she would have…Well, not won first – too many skaters there had been both more advanced and more experienced than her – but easily placed fifth or fourth.

It was only when Vera came to a still that she noticed him. “Y-Yuri?”

He motioned for her to get off the ice. Now.

Vera frowned but skated over. The moment she stepped off the ice, Yuri let loose:

“What were you thinking running off like that?! You can’t just disappear without telling anyone where you’re going!”

She blinked, looking like the concept of not being able to run off wherever and whenever she pleased was alien.

_Oh._

Yuri made yet another mental note to chew out Vera’s sorry excuse for a mother if she ever showed her face again. Possibly punch her too.

“You have your coach worried sick,” he said, trying to press the severity of it with his tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone…”

“Just don’t do it again.”

She nodded, expression serious. She then slipped back on her skate guards and leaned against the rink wall.  

“I’m just- I _should_ have skated better than that.”

Yuri leaned on the wall beside her. “I have never met a skater than doesn’t get nervous when they compete.”

Vera glanced up at him. “Really?”

“Really. Me, Mila, Katsudon- I mean, Yuuri Katsuki. He has terrible anxiety during competitions. JJ too.”

“JJ Leroy?” She sounded like she didn’t believe him. “But he’s so bigheaded!”

Yuri couldn’t help but laugh and pat Vera’s head. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Half the time he only acts like that to fight off his anxiety.”

“What about the other half?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

She hummed like that made perfect sense.        

“Getting nervous like that is part of being a competitive figure skater,” Yuri continued, “If you want to compete, you’ll need to figure out how to overcome it.”

“I tried to pretend that only you, Coach Lebedeva, and my rinkmate were watching. It helped a little.”

Yuri smiled. “You’ll get there, Verushka.”

Vera looked back up at him in pure surprise. Then, somehow, she still had the energy to jump high enough so that he automatically caught her and lifted her in a waist loop hold.

“Happy now?” He grumbled and wondered when that had become muscle memory.

“Yup!” She exclaimed, grinning at him.

“Good,” Yuri said as he set her back down, “Now go get changed. I’ll drive you home.”

As Vera headed toward the locker rooms, Yuri got out his phone and texted her coach. After a moment, he decided to text Yakov as well.


	5. Burn Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since last fall Yuri had managed to keep reporters, interviewers, and his fans off his back. He avoided them when he could; and, when he couldn’t, he gave them what they wanted without actually telling them anything. He had kept his grandfather’s death private. Outside of Yakov and Lilia, only his rinkmates and friends knew. 
> 
> So how the hell did the entire world suddenly find out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we know thanks to the BluRays that the anime takes place during 2015, that makes this chapter take place March 2020. Apparently Skate Canada is bidding to host the 2020 World Championship. When I found that out, I HAD to have Worlds in this chapter take place in Canada.

“Bleh.” Yuri gagged at as they walked through the airport terminal. Every other wall seemed to be covered in posters of JJ and his annoyingly smug face. “Worlds just had to be in Canada. Fucking Canada.”

“They’re just supporting their local hero,” Mila replied, grinning.

“Hmph.”  

The group of Russians continued on to baggage claim. Yuri quickly grabbed his suitcase off the belt and then moved out of the way so Mila and Lilia could get theirs. At the same time, Yakov’s cell phone started ringing.

“Vitya?” Yakov answered.

Since Yuri couldn’t care less about Viktor calling, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his social media. All the fan accounts that followed him were weirdly active. Well, they were always active, especially during a competition. But this was different. They were upset. And sending condolences.

What.

How.

Despite his active online presence, Yuri had always kept his personal life – his family and their situation – at a distance from his career. It had been one of the few pieces of good advice his mother, who had been briefly famous from her stint as an idol, ever gave him.

Ever since last fall Yuri had managed to keep reporters, interviewers, and his fans off his back. He avoided them when he could; and, when he couldn’t, he gave them what they wanted without actually telling them anything. He had kept his grandfather’s death private. Outside of Yakov and Lilia, only his rinkmates and friends knew.

So how the hell did the entire world suddenly find out?

Yuri scrolled farther down until he came across an article link. He hesitated for a split second but then clicked on it. Right at the top of the page was a photo of his grandfather’s grave.

His phone cluttered to the floor, hitting at just the right angle that a crack spider-webbed across the screen.

“-Dammit. He just saw it.”

* * *

The car ride to the hotel was eerily quiet. No one seemed to know what to say about the situation. Yuri leaned his head against the window. He’d turned his phone off, not wanting to get any notifications or have to see people inspect his performance over the season under the microscope of new information.

What had given the asshole paparazzi blog the right to dig around his personal life like that, to invade his grandfather’s resting place for a damn picture, and then put it out for the entire world to see? A day before the most important competition of the season at that.

Yuri should have been furious. Instead he was just…

Numb.

As they neared the hotel, Yuri tensed up. Standing outside was a large group of (mostly) young women with the tell-tale cat-eared headbands. He really did not want to deal with his fanclub right now.

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a plan.” Mila reached over and squeezed his shoulder before sending off a quick text.

A moment later Viktor stepped out of the hotel lobby with his fake smile plastered on and said something that got the crowd of fangirls’ collective attention. While Viktor acted as a distraction, the car parked around the side of the building. They all got out and grabbed their luggage from the trunk.  

“Yurio.”

Yuri turned to see Katsudon walking out of one of those emergency exit side doors. Katsudon looked like he might cry, which was stupid because this was Yuri’s problem. Not his.

“You can stay in my and Viktor’s room while Yakov checks in for you,” Katsudon said, lightly grabbing his elbow.

Yuri nodded and let Katsudon lead him into the building.

Inside the hotel room, Yuri perched on the very edge of the (thankfully not yet slept in) queen sized bed. It was another awkward silence for five or so minutes before Katsudon tried to speak.

“Yurio, I-”

“Save it,” Yuri interrupted, “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Katsudon replied.

“Just don’t.”

They fell back into awkward silence. Even though the clock claimed it was only ten minutes, it felt like at least thirty minutes before Viktor finally opened the door.

“Yurio, your room is 409,” he said as he held out the cardkey.

Before anyone could say anything else, Yuri snatched his cardkey from Viktor and picked up his suitcase. He then walked out of their room.

* * *

Otabek greeted him the next morning with a single nod before stepping into pace next to him. Yuri didn’t feel like talking about it, not when he needed to focus on skating. Otabek understood and respected that. Better yet no reporter, fan, or curious skater dared bring it up with Otabek shooting everyone that approached his best death glare.

Yuri stuck close to his friend’s side during morning practice and as they watched the ladies’ short programs.

* * *

Yuri winced when he saw his short program score: 89.12. He hadn’t scored so low since he’d adjusted to his higher center of gravity (growing 12 centimeters in as many months had been hell). He hadn’t even made any major technical mistakes. The problem was his PCS score.

“Your skating was emotionless,” Yakov stated the obvious.

“I’m aware.”

Yuri stood up and walked away from the kiss and cry.     

* * *

That night Yuri sprawled across his hotel bed and scrolled through social media on his cracked phone. Perhaps it wasn’t the best of his ideas but, like picking at a scab, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

His fed was filled with supportive and encouraging comments from his fans. The few comments that were less than supportive had been quickly and mercilessly torn apart. Most of the other skaters had made posts decrying the invasion of privacy as well. Apparently the backlash had been so bad that the article was taken down.

Sometimes the pushiness of his Angels worked in his favor. Yuri typed out a general reply thanking everyone and posted it before letting his phone drop to the bed.

About twenty minutes later, Lilia waltzed into his hotel room (having claimed the spare key for exactly this purpose) and stared at him with her sharp eyes.  

“Get up,” she demanded, holding out a box of takeout, “You need to eat.”      

* * *

It was bound to happen eventually. While Yuri mentally prepared for his upcoming free skate, both Yakov and Lilia had to step away for a few minutes. He was just finishing his stretches when a voice called out.

“Yuri Plisetsky?”

He turned to see a reporter with a cameraman tagging behind. A quick glance around showed that the only person nearby was JJ. It was the first time Yuri had been left essentially alone during the competition; and, like a vulture, this reporter had swooped in.

“I’m not doing interviews.”

“But-”

JJ’s voice boomed across the room. “Wouldn’t you rather interview the King who’s about to bring home gold for his little princess?”

“Well,” the reported padded, apparently not thrilled with yet another interview being hijacked by JJ to gush about his baby daughter.

JJ didn’t care though as he strolled over and inserted himself between the camera and Yuri. He then winked at Yuri before turning his full attention to the reporter.

Shit. Had he really sunk so low that even JJ was protecting him? Yuri grimaced and stomped away towards the rink.

“You’re angry,” Yakov said when he returned. The coach sounded relieved.

Yuri blinked and realized that Yakov was right. A spark of defiant anger had lit up inside him.

With his short program score being low, Yuri knew he was highly unlikely win gold or even silver. However, if he fought tooth and nail, then there was a chance for bronze to be within his reach.

When the free programs began, Yuri stepped out onto the ice to a chorus of “davai” from the other skaters and the audience. He gave Otabek their traditional thumbs up before skating out to the center and settling into position.

His music began to play. Muscle memory took him through the choreography movements, while fury burned in his chest and thoughts swirled through his mind.

How dare that asshole paparazzi invade his personal life and a place of mourning! How could he let this throw him off so completely that even JJ fucking Leroy pitied him! He’d prove to them all that he didn’t need pity!

“His first jump is a quad lutz-”

Yuri used that burst of anger to push his jump higher-

_“Yurochka, you should channel that temper of yours into something more productive.”_

Shit. His balanced failed as he tumbled hard to the ice. Yuri shot out a hand to salvage the landing. A twisting sensation in his wrist. He’d screwed up the salvage too. Shit. Shit. Shit.  

Yuri pushed up with a pained grimace and continued skating. He had planned to use Tano variations for a few of his later jumps but now… Yakov and Lilia would strangle him if he risked making his injury worse.

Blocking out the throbbing wasn’t too difficult. Yuri was determined not to fall again. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back up if he did. Somehow he managed the rest of his jumps, spins, and step sequence.

Then it finally ended. Yuri panted for breath. His eyes were watering too. Still he tried not to show how badly his wrist hurt as he bowed to the judges and audience.

The moment he stepped off the ice, Yakov grabbed his arm. Yuri hissed and instinctively tried to yank away.

“We need to get you to the physician.”

* * *

Yuri sat in the on-site doctor’s office with Yakov, waiting for the sports physician to return with his diagnosis. There was a large tv on the wall that displayed the rink arena. Currently they were holding the medal ceremony. Unfortunately, JJ had pulled off his obnoxious promise to win gold. He seemed to be blowing kisses to his wife and child.

“Eugh,” Yuri gagged, “He’s _worse_ than Viktor and Katsudon. I didn’t think that was possible.”

Beside him, Yakov just snorted.     

“Good news,” the doctor said as she walked back into the room, “It’s not fractured. The bad news is the ligament is torn. It doesn’t look bad enough to need surgery but you’ll want to have your primary doctor take a look when you return to Russia. For now I’m going to put on a splint.”

* * *

“That was sloppy. Again!” Yakov shouted.

Yuri groaned but went through the drill for what felt like the hundredth time. The splint was still secure around his arm, limiting the movement of his wrist while it healed. Since the more difficult jumps weren’t advised yet in case he fell and tried to catch himself with that hand, Yakov had decided to put him through basics. Again and again and again.

“You’d think now that the season is over, Yakov would give you a break,” Mila commented once he was finally allowed off the ice.

“I think he’s mad that I got injured,” Yuri replied with a shrug. He then grabbed his water bottle and found the nearest bench.  

A few minutes later Vera joined him, idly swinging her feet because they didn’t reach the ground. She’d been subdued ever since he’d picked her up at school earlier. Yuri had a feeling that it was because of him – his lackluster performance at Worlds and his injury.

“When my dad died,” she started, immediately causing Yuri’s head to snap around to look at her. Her expression was distant and wistful. “My mom didn’t want to be around the house or me anymore… I was really lonely… Then one night I was watching tv and saw a figure skating competition, the Grand Prix Final. It was most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, like- like _you_ were soaring across the ice. For a few minutes I forgot I was lonely.”

Suddenly everything he knew about Vera Kotova clicked into a new understanding.

“That’s why you taught yourself how to skate Agape.”

“Maybe it’s silly but I thought if I could skate it, I wouldn’t be…”

She trailed off but Yuri thought he understood what she meant. A child who’s parental love and care had been stripped away and replaced with absence and indifference. _His_ performance on unconditional love had, for a brief moment, been the comfort she needed.

Yuri glanced up at the windows, where beams of light were pouring from.

“Agape, huh.”

Grandpa was the foundation of his agape. He still was and always would be. Death couldn’t change that.

However, Yuri hadn’t broken a world record skating for the love between him and his grandfather alone. Agape was more encompassing than that. It was also Yakov and Lilia’s critical brand of affection. It was his rinkmates’ camaraderie. It was Viktor keeping his promise despite having forgotten it. It was Yuuko, her family, and the Katsuki family’s kindness. It was Katsudon treating him as an equal skater, even when he’d been nothing but rude and hostile. It was Beka, who had remembered him and sought his friendship.

It was, apparently, comforting and inspiring a child that he wouldn’t meet for another four years.

“When I was your age, I thought that the only person I had was my grandfather.”

“You really miss him,” she said it like saying ‘the sky is blue’.

“Yeah, I do,” Yuri replied, “Grandpa would have loved you.”

Getting an idea, Yuri suddenly stood up.

“Yuri?”

“Would you like to eat dinner with me tonight, Verushka?” He asked, “It’s been too long since I last made katsudon-pirozhki.”

“Okay,” Vera replied but then paused, “…But what’s katsudon?”

* * *

Yuri was instructing Vera on how to properly roll out dough when a knock rapped against the door. He quickly rinsed his hands off and went to let his guests in.

“Yakov, Lillia,” he greeted. Then he saw the uninvited guest standing with them. “Mila? Why are you here?”

She flashed a smile and pulled him down into a headlock. “I overheard that you’re making katsudon-pirozhki.”

“Does my apartment look like a restaurant!? Let go of me, hag!” He struggled fruitlessly before resigning to his fate.

Yakov shut the door and then shed his coat, all the while ignoring his skaters’ antics. At the same Vera poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Yuri, I finished the dough!”

Lilia took one glance at the kid and crossed the hall way to her.

“Wha-?” Vera tried to ask before Lilia pried her mouth open. She frantically looked over to Yuri and Mila with the unspoken question of: who is this woman and why is she doing this?

Lilia made a tsk noise. “Yakov, schedule a dentist appointment for her.”

She let go of Vera’s face, leaving the kid looking confused and mildly offended. Then the recognition seemed to click for Vera.

“You’re Lilia Baranovskaya.”

“I am,” Lilia replied, strolling into the apartment and sitting on the couch with all the grace of a former prima ballerina.

“At least she didn’t decide to test Vera’s flexibility.” Mila chuckled in Yuri’s ear before releasing him from her death grip.

“I have no intentions of training or choreographing for her,” Lilia stated, glancing over Vera again, “Her posture is acceptable.”

“One of your former pupils is teaching her,” Yakov said.

Lilia nodded.   

Once everyone settled inside, Yuri made Mila fix them all tea because if she was going to show up uninvited then she needed to make herself useful. Vera took that as a chance to escape the cooking lesson and go play with the cat.

Yuri returned to fixing the katsudon-pirozhkis, layering the dough, rice, and meat. It brought to mind his grandfather teaching him to make pirozhkis. Suddenly there was a prick in his eyes as his vision blurred. A tear dropped to the kitchen counter, soon followed by another. Yuri covered his mouth to muffle a sob.  

“Yuratchka…”

He spun around to Yakov, who was looking at him with an unusually soft expression. Before he could think about what he was doing, Yuri folded his arms around the coach. Yakov patted his back a little awkwardly but warmly. Yuri soaked in the warm comfort being offered.

However, eventually he had to pull away.

“Sorry. I’m okay. I just…”

“Remembered,” Yakov offered.

“Yeah.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Yakov said, “I can’t tell you how many times Vitya got upset and hugged me.”

“Don’t compare me to Viktor like that,” Yuri grumbled.  

“I won’t if you promise not to run off to Japan in seven years because of an early mid-life crisis.”

Mila’s laugh echoed from the living room. Yuri quickly found himself laughing along with her until he was gasping for air.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his aching sides, “Let me finish dinner now.”

It was nice, Yuri thought later as they sat around the table. Yakov and Lilia were silently eating, while Vera was perplexed by the taste and texture of rice inside pirozhki. Mila had taken a photo of the food and was sending it to Viktor, Katsudon, and even Georgi to taunt them about missing it.

Yuri smiled as he fed a little piece to his cat.

* * *

Yakov was lecturing him after another long tiresome practice. Yuri mostly toned him out as he took a long drink of water and then began unlacing his skates.

“If your motivation remains lacking like this, your technical skills will begin to suffer too,” the coach stated, ending his string of complaints.

“Yakov, I know,” Yuri replied, “I need to talk to you about that.”

“What is it?” Yakov asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I’ve decided to take next season off.”

“WHAT?!”


	6. Social Media Frenzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEADLINE: Yuri Plisetsky announced to be taking next season off
> 
> Yesterday Russia’s top male figure skater, Yuri Plisetsky, announced that he’ll be taking next season off. While no explanation was given, speculation is that a death in the family mid-season contributed to his slipping scores and inability to medal at the World Figure Skating Championship. [read more]

 

          **HEADLINE: Yuri Plisetsky announced to be taking next season off**

Yesterday Russia’s top male figure skater, Yuri Plisetsky, announced that he’ll be taking next season off. While no explanation was given, speculation is that a death in the family mid-season contributed to his slipping scores and inability to medal at the World Figure Skating Championship. [read more]

_[Comments]_

Yuratchka! .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Noooooooo!

I'll MISS YOU YURATCHKA

What, he didn’t medal for once so now he’s quitting. Pathetic.

              There’s a difference between taking a season off and quitting!

              How insensitive can you be?! Yuratchka lost his grandfather! He got injured too! If he needs to take time off, then we should respect                     that! I bet he’ll make a comeback and sweep the GP, European Championships, and World’s next year!

              [21 replies]

Jeez, Yuri’s Angels are rabid.

[48 replies]

* * *

v-nikiforov: it’s gratifying to know that certain people still look up to me

                phichit+chu liked

                m-babicheva liked

                christophe-gc liked

                christophe-gc replied: a little vague there

                [more]

* * *

[image: a Japanese airport terminal; Yuri is walking toward the camera with a travel bag slung over his shoulders]

v-nikiforov: Here with @katsukiyuuri to welcome our son @yuri-plisetsky for a visit.

                Yuri_angels retweeted

                kenjirouminami✦ liked

                otabek+altin liked

                m-babicheva liked

                phichit+chu liked

                christophe-gc liked

                yuri-plisetsky replied: I AM NOT YOUR SON

                v-nikiforov replied: I suppose Yakov would get mad at me for joking like that since he’s our father

                yuri-plisetsky: YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER EITHER

                v-nikiforov replied: not even if it means getting my Yuuri as a brother-in-law

                yuri-plisetsky: why are you like this

                [more]

* * *

**Yuri’s Angels Chatroom**

_Fairycat:_

I wonder why Yuratchka is visiting Japan

_sk8trcat23:_

Since he’s taking the season off, he has plenty of time to visit friends around the world

_Xx_YuriisLove_xx:_

You just want more photos of Yuratchka and Otabek together

_sk8trcat23:_

…maybe

_Fairycat:_

he’s visiting VIKTOR NIKIFOROV

it seems a little suspicious to me

_Purrsetsky <3:_

you think Yuratchka is getting some sort of secret training from Viktor?

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

Or getting a program choreographed?

_Fairycat:_

Idk it just feels like Yuratchka has some sort of plan with taking the season off

_Xx_YuriisLove_xx:_

you’re overthinking it. He probably just needs a break…

* * *

[image: Yuri and Yuuri splashing in the waves at Hasetsu beach]

v-nikiforov: my life and love @katsukiyuuri and our Yurio @yuri-plisetsky

                phichit+chu liked

                kenjirouminami✦ liked

                christophe-gc liked

                otabek+altin liked

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                Yuri_angels retweeted

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                [more]

* * *

[video: Yuri, Yuuri, and Viktor all skating together]

sukeota3sisters: @katsukiyuuri, @v-nikiforov, and @yuri-plisetsky skating at Hasetsu Ice Palace

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* * *

[image: selfie of a tired Yuri with his cat curled up in his lap]

yuri-plisetsky: Back home after a long flight

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* * *

[image: selfie of Yuri in a nice suit in front of the Bolshoi Theater]

yuri-plisetsky: Lilia dragged me to watch the Bolshoi Ballet. It was okay I guess.

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                Yuri_angels retweeted: Yuratchka in a suit <3

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* * *

TO: Feltsman, Yakov

SUBJECT: Vera Kotova

                Yakov,

                 I think it’s about time for Vera to transfer as your student full time. She’s learning too fast for me to be able to give her the proper                            attention she needs anymore.  

                 Sincerely,

                 Roza

TO: Lebedeva, Roza

SUBJECT: RE – Vera Kotova

                Let me guess. She’s been practicing triples every time you turn your back.

                Yakov

* * *

[image: a beanie hat with cat ears]

yuri-plisetsky: Found the perfect gift.

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                Yuri_angels retweeted: Wonder who it’s for…

                m-babicheva replied: Sorry ladies Yuri has a favorite angel now

                Yuri_angels replied: ?!?!?!?!

                Purrsetsky<3 replied: WHAT

                i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat replied: DOES YURATCHKA HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!!!!

                sk8trcat23 replied: I thought he was dating Otabek Altin

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* * *

[image: Yuri and Vera curled up and sleeping peacefully; Vera is wearing the cat beanie]

m-babicheva: Two kittens taking a catnap @yuri-plisetsky

                Yuri_angels retweeted: It’s the hat! Aww, they’re adorable! <3

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                v-nikiforov replied: Finally a picture of this cute kitten we’ve been hearing about

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: DAMMIT OLD HAG

                m-babicheva replied: I see you over there saving the picture to your phone

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* * *

**  
Yuri’s Angels Chatroom**

_Fairycat:_

I think I figured out who the mystery kid is in that photo Mila posted the other day (bless her)

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

tell us!

_Purrsetsky <3:_

please

_Fairycat:_

Vera Kotova

She made waves in novice competitions this past year.

Rumor is she recently transferred under Coach Feltsman in preparation for her debut in the juniors

_sk8trcat23:_

considering she gets to nap with Yuratchka I think we can confirm that rumor

_Fairycat:_

Here’s a video someone took from her last competition

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

she’s adorable <3

_sk8trcat23:_

her combination spin reminds me of Yuratchka’s

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

her step sequence is good too

_Purrsetsky <3:_

Did she just

_Xx_YuriisLove_xx:_

A tano jump!

_sk8trcat23:_

she had both hands raised

that’s a rippon variation

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

ouch!

_Xx_YuriisLove_xx:_

oh no!

_i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat:_

good she’s fine

_Purrsetsky <3:_

at least it had enough rotations to count as a triple

_sk8trcat23:_

Iook at her coach’s face

she wasn’t supposed to do that

_Fairycat:_

ikr

_Xx_YuriisLove_xx:_

lol

_Fairycat:_

“The rate at which Vera Kotova has been incorporating new techniques into her repertoire is astounding. She might be the dark horse of this year’s Junior Nationals.” article

_sk8trcat23:_

No wonder Yuratchka likes her

* * *

[image: selfie of Yuri and Otabek at Almaty International Airport]

yuri-plisetsky: Trip to Almaty @otabek+altin

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                Purrsetsky<3 replied: the fairy and the hero <3

                sk8trcat23 replied: going to see the Otabae

                Xx_YuriisLove_xx replied: sometimes I wonder if you prefer Otabek over Yuratchka

                sk8trcat23 replied: I adore them both

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* * *

[image: Otabek DJ-ing at a night club]

yuri-plisetsky: fun fact - @otabek+altin moonlights as a DJ

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                leo-de-la-iglesia retweeted: Otabek makes cool remixes

                +guanghongji+ liked

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: fuck off JJ

                Jjleroy!15 replied: I didn’t say anything!

                [more]

* * *

[image: Yuri leaning on a motorbike as he stares at the sunset, the wind blowing through his hair]

otabek+altin: @yuri-plisetsky

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                yuri-plisetsky retweeted: I didn’t know you were going to take a picture

                Yuri_angels retweeted: Otabek Altin is a hero

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* * *

[video: Yuri skating a goofy routine to ‘Everybody Wants To Be A Cat’]

yuri-plisetsky: this is @otabek+altin ‘s fault

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                leo-de-la-iglesia replied: how did you convince him???

                otabek+altin replied: he lost a bet

                [more]

* * *

[image: Otabek asleep on a couch; a cat-eared headband has been placed on his head]

yuri-plisetsky: revenge is sweet @otabek+altin

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* * *

[image: Vera hanging off Yuri’s shoulders at the rink]

m-babicheva: the little kitten missed her big grumpy cat @yuri-plisetsky

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: very funny hag

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                Yuri_angels retweeted: Bless Mila

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* * *

[image: selfie of Yuri in reserved seats at the GPF; there are skaters practicing on the rink in the background]

yuri-plisetsky: It’s a little surreal being at the GPF as an audience member

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                Jjleroy!15 replied: I felt that way last year

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* * *

[image: Phichit with a bronze around his neck pulling Yuuri (gold) and Otabek (silver) into a group selfie]

phichit+chu: GPF podium selfie!

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                yuri-plisetsky retweeted: Good job @otabek+altin @katsukiyuuri @phichit+chu for kicking JJ off the podium

                phichit+chu replied: thanks

                [more]

* * *

[image: Viktor kissing the gold medal while Yuuri’s still wearing it; Yuuri looks torn between embarrassment and amusement]

v-nikiforov: So proud of my three time GPF gold medalist husband!!! <3

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: do you have to be gross about it every time Katsudon wins gold

                Katsudon_fanclub retweeted: The true president of the Katsuki Yuuri fandclub

                [more]

* * *

vera-kotova: Hello! I’m finally setting up an official account. Please follow me to track my figure skating career!

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* * *

[video: Vera hiding around a corner while Yuri laces his skates; he knows she’s there but isn’t letting onto it. As soon as he stands up, Vera pounces at him. Yuri turns around in time to catch and lift her.]

m-babicheva: I swear @yuri-plisetsky and @vera-kotova are in fact cats

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: delete this

                vera-kotova replied: you’ve been taking pictures and videos of us?

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* * *

[image: selfie of Vera and Anya, who’s in a skating costume]

vera-kotova: Davai! @anya-on-ice

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* * *

[image: selfie of Vera with one of Yuri’s fangirls]

Purrsetsky<3: OMG I was at a novice competition and @vera-kotova was there cheering on a friend! She’s just as adorable in person!

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                vera-kotova replied: thanks! It was nice meeting you!

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* * *

[image: selfie of Vera in front the rink where Russian nationals are taking place]

vera-kotova: Next stop – Russia’s Junior Figure Skating Championship!

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                anya-on-ice replied: davai!!!

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                Yuri_angels retweeted: Let’s all cheer for Vera!

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                v-nikiforov replied: I’m sure you’ll do great! Yurio has an eye for potential! Davai!

                yuri-plisetsky replied: Don’t make her nervous, you idiot!

                katsukiyuuri liked

                v-nikiforov replied: Excuse me, when was I ever wrong?              

                yuri-plisetsky replied: …..

                v-nikiforov replied: Believe in me who believes in you who believes in Vera

                vera-kotova liked

                katsukiyuuri replied: I regret ever letting you watch Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann

                v-nikiforov replied: *gasp* Yuuriiiiii

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* * *

[image: Vera sitting in a chair while Yuri braids her hair]

m-babicheva: @yuri-plisetsky fixing @vera-kotova ‘s hair before the competition

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                Yuri_angels retweeted: Once again bless Mila

                yuri-plisetsky replied: NOT AGAIN YOU HAG

                m-babicheva replied: and yet you always save the pictures I take            

                [more]

* * *

[image: Yuri, Vera, and Yakov in the distance by the rink]

Yuri_angels: Yuratchka spotted at the Junior Championship Finals!

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                Purrsetsky<3 liked

                Xx_YuriisLove_xx replied: Aww, Yuratchka’s supporting Vera from the rinkside

                Purrsetsky<3 replied: I wonder how that makes her competition feel

                sk8trcat23 replied: intimidated

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* * *

yuri-plisetsky: With a SP score of 70.11, @vera-kotova ends the day in first place

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                v-nikiforov replied: I was right

                m-babicheva retweeted: We’re proud of our little kitten

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* * *

[image: selfie of Vera with a tired but happy smile as she holds up a silver medal]

vera-kotova: SP of 70.11, FS of 126.81, TS of 196.92, one silver medal, and a long lecture from Coach Yakov          

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                phichit+chu replied: Congratulations on silver!

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                Jjleroy!15 replied: Not bad, kid. If you reach the podium again during the GP, you and Yuri can have matching silvers.

                yuri-plisetsky replied: WHAT THE HECK JJ!

                vera-kotova retweeted: And a second lecture from @yuri-plisetsky

                v-nikiforov replied: that’s Yakov and Yurio’s way of showing they care

                vera-kotova replied: I know

                vera-kotova replied: also Yuri wants me to win gold to spite JJ

                [more]

* * *

[video: a reporter holding a mic toward Vera, who’s still in her program outfit with her Team Russia jacket over it, as he interviews her]

REPORTER: How does it feel to win silver your first time competing at the Junior Nationals?

VERA: It feels pretty good even though I was hoping for gold. I just couldn’t close the gap of experience and will have to train harder for the Junior Grand Prix.

REPORTER: So you’re aiming for gold at your international debut then?

VERA: Of course! I think pushing my limits and seeing how far I can go is the fun part of figure skating. So I might as well aim high.

_[Comments]_

She’s too cocky

                Did you not see her program?

                The gold medalist is four years older than her and moving up to seniors next season. She only lost by a few points.

                [5 replies]

There’s already an article referring to her as Yuri Plisetsky’s protégé. 

                Protégé in both skating and attitude

                                She seems a lot less grumpy than Yuri Plisetsky

                                                But just as ambitious

_Comment deleted by user_

                SHE’S TWELVE

                Unless you are a kid using your older brother’s account, which I highly doubt, you are too old to be saying that about a child

                                [18 more replies]

                Woah, Yuri’s Angels being defensive over someone other than their beloved fairy

                                Never thought that was possible

                You are a brave soul to risk the wrath of the Russian Punk like that

                                Knife shoes sound like a painful way to go

                                                Lol OP deleted out of fear of knife shoes

* * *

**HEADLINE: Russia has a new Men’s Figure Skating Champion**

Alexei Volkov was the dark horse of the National Championship. He went from sixth place last year, his senior debut, to winning gold this year. [read more]

_[Comments]_

Everyone knows he’s only keeping the spot of National Champion warm for Yuratchka

                His TS didn’t come close to the scores Yuratchka gets

                [23 replies]

Yuri’s Angels are at it again

[11 replies]

* * *

[image: Vera, Anya, Mila, and Yuri sitting around a table with a birthday cake; Anya looks like she might spontaneously combust from being so close to Yuri and Mila]

vera-kotova: Guess who's finally old enough for an international debut?

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                Yuri_angel retweeted: Happy Birthday!

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* * *

[image: selfie of Yuri and Otabek in a hotel lobby]

yuri-plisetsky: First time I’ve ever been able to make it to 4CC to cheer for @otabek+altin

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* * *

[image: Viktor and Yuri talking while the skaters warm up]

phichit+chu: The Russians are slowly invading 4CC lol

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* * *

[image: Otabek heading off the rink after the medal ceremony with gold around his neck]

yuri-plisetsky: @otabek+altin living up to his name

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* * *

[video: Vera running and jumping at Yuri, who easily catches and lifts her]

m-babicheva: @vera-kotova ditched me the second @yuri-plisetsky returned. I am hurt

                yuri-plisetsky replied: that’s because I’m her favorite

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* * *

[video: a kitten following an older cat around and meowing; the cat stops and meows back at the kitten]

katsukiyuuri: More video footage of @yuri-plisetsky and @vera-kotova found

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: you’re dead Katsudon

                v-nikiforov replied: please we all know you think the video is adorable

                yuri-plisetsky replied: you too old man

                [more]

* * *

yuri-plisetsky: If you guys let JJ take gold at Worlds again, I’ll kick all your asses at the after party

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                Jjleroy!15 replied: big words for someone too afraid to compete against me

                yuri-plisetsky replied: says the loser who hasn’t climbed to the top of the podium all season

                [more]

* * *

[image: selfie of Vera and Anya in the rink cafeteria to watch Worlds]

vera-kotova: Stuck here in St. Petersburg while everyone is at Worlds but at least I have good company @anya-on-ice

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* * *

 m-babicheva: @vera-kotova just called to tell me to break the total score world record so she can take it from me in a few years

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                sala-crispino liked

                sala-crispino replied: shots fired

                yuri-plisetsky retweeted: better snag that record before Verushka is old enough for seniors or you’ll never get near it

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                m-babicheva replied: whoever thought it was a good idea for Yuri to be a role model? He’s a terrible influence. Next thing we know,                   Vera will be wearing animal print

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* * *

yuri-plisetsky: Dammit

                emil-nekola replied: Sorry Yuri, we tried

                kenjirouminami✦ replied: you weren’t serious about kicking all our butts right???

                leo-de-la-iglesia replied: it’s Yuri P so yeah, he's serious

                +guanghongji+ replied: don’t even think about it Plisetsky

                yuri-plisetsky replied: am I supposed to feel threatened by you

                phichit+chu replied: Violent but secretly cute VS Cute but secretly violent *grabs popcorn*

                [more]

* * *

v-nikiforov: Next time, kids, leave the drunken dance battles to @katsukiyuuri

                katsukiyuuri replied: VIKTOR

                Jjleroy!15  liked

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                christophe-gc replied: sounds like the Worlds banquet was wild

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* * *

[image: selfie of Vera in a leopard print hoodie + the cat ear beanie, grinning brightly]

vera-kotova: @m-babicheva

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                m-babicheva replied: You are a little brat

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* * *

**HEADLINE: Yuri Plisetsky announces his comeback to the Grand Prix Series**

After taking a season break from competitive figure skating, Yuri Plisetsky has announced he will be competing in this year’s Grand Prix Series. [read more]

_[Comments]_

Yuratchka! <3

Welcome back, Yuratchka!!!!

We all knew Yuratchka would be returning

[41 replies]

* * *

[image: Yuuri leaning against an airplane window, fast asleep]

v-nikiforov: My Japanese Sleeping Beauty @katsukiyuuri <3 

                phichit+chu liked

                m-babicheva liked

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                yuri-plisetsky replied: you two are already being gross and you’re not even here yet

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this was a convenient time skip. I think the social media style worked well for it. Plus it was a lot of fun to write (formatting was a nightmare though). I hope you all enjoyed it!


	7. Legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov arrive in Saint Petersburg to visit over the off season. Turns out meeting the Legend of figure skating in person is no big deal for Vera. His husband however…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon Yuuri is proficient in like a dozen different dance styles, including but not limited to: ballet, breakdance, pole dancing, ballroom dancing (includes the tango he danced with Viktor), Japanese traditional dances (including Japanese fan dancing, solely because I’d love to see Viktor’s reaction to that), Thai traditional dances (Phichit and Yuuri taught each other their home countries’ traditional dances because why not), tap dance, and swing. 
> 
> Respect Dancing King Yuuri.

Vera walked to the ice rink as if she had permission to be there after hours. She didn’t but none of the random people she passed on the street knew that. Once she arrived, she pulled the key that no one knew she had from her pocket and unlocked the side door.

Inside was dark and quiet, her footsteps the only echoing sound. It was a little creepy to be at the rink completely alone. However, Vera persisted on. She found the lights and switched them on, which greatly lessened the eerie factor. She then snatched her skates from the locker room. 

Being on the ice without Coach Yakov shouting at her or Yuri and Mila giving advice was nice. Not that she didn’t appreciate it all, but Vera had spent years experimenting on her own terms. Lately she had begun to miss that.

She glided around the rink to the first song that popped up on shuffle. Her movements were soft, slow, and aimless. Then the song switched to something more upbeat. Feeling her heart beat seemingly in time with the music, Vera jumped.

A triple flip.

Then a triple lutz.

Feeling encouraged by the relative ease of those jumps, Vera skated around to build up momentum and then leapt into an axel. It was at the beginning of the third rotation that she noticed two men standing rinkside:

Viktor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. Both legends stared at her in surprise.   

Vera’s first thought was that she was going to be in so much trouble. Then she registered that she was falling. Vera quickly shifted her body to soften the blow as she slammed into the ice.

* * *

Yuri woke to the blaring of his phone. He blindly groped for it in the dark and considered turning it on silent in sleepy spite until he saw who was calling.

With an annoyed groan, he answered, “Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Yurio,” Katsudon said, “Viktor and I decided skate a little before heading to the apartment.”

“If this is all, I swear I’ll-”

“Vera was already here. We startled her mid-jump.”

“Shit.” A thousand thoughts swirled through his mind but only one was at the forefront. “Is she okay?”

“It wasn’t a bad fall. She’s insisting to Viktor that she could have landed that triple axel if we hadn’t distracted her.”

A triple axel? Yuri groaned again. “I should have seen this coming. She’s been landing the triple lutz about half the time lately.”

“VERA!” Yakov’s voice came from the phone.

“Oh, Yakov just arrived,” Katsudon confirmed.

Yuri had been considering throwing on sweatpants and a jacket to head over there, but with Yakov’s arrival it would be pointless. Yakov would lecture the brat, ban her from practicing any jumps for a few days, and then drag her home. Not that Yuri knew that from personal experience (okay, that was a lie).

Actually, it might be longer than a few days because she’d somehow sneaked into the rink when it was closed. If it wasn’t for the fact practicing difficult jumps alone was dangerously stupid and that extra practice on top of her already intense training regimen could cause serious health problems, Yuri would be impressed.

“Yakov can deal with it for now,” Yuri replied with a yawn, “Thanks for letting me know.”

* * *

Yuri had an early practice slotted the next morning. Since Yakov had decided to sleep in after dealing with his youngest student’s act of rebellion, he was the only one there. Yuri took advantage of the empty rink to experiment to his chosen music. It was only when he took a break that Yuri realized he’d gained an audience of one.

The man that even years later was still referred to as a Legend of figure skating stood rinkside. Viktor looked well rested for someone that had spent most of yesterday traveling. However, he did have a large cup of coffee in hand. 

“Viktor,” Yuri greeted and glanced around, “Where’s Katsudon?”

Viktor smiled softly. “Jet lag.”

Yuri nodded as he skated over to where he’d left his water bottle. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” Viktor replied, “I’m shocked, Yurio. You’ve had an entire year and that’s the best you’ve come up with.”

“Not all of us are you, old man!” Yuri raised his water battle like he might throw it.

Viktor just laughed.

Yuri continued working, while Viktor frequently shouted unasked for opinions. At one point Yuri yelled at him to shut the hell up. Neither openly acknowledged that Yuri took said opinions into account more often than not.

Eventually lunch rolled around; and, the two grabbed food from the cafeteria. Shortly after, the others started to arrive. Mila took half the rink to start piecing together her short program for next season, while Katsudon was going through a very slow warm up on the other half.  

About an hour later, Yuri left the rink to go pick up Vera from school. Now that she officially trained under Yakov, Yuri didn’t need to come meet her before practice. Today, however, was a special case. Soon Vera was walking out the doors in the stream of students. She grimaced when she saw Yuri standing by the school gates but shifted her backpack and continued forward.

“I’m in trouble,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“Do I need to explain why what you did was stupid too?”

Vera hurriedly shook her head. “Coach Yakov got the point across. And took the key. And banned me from jumps.”

“I figured as much.” They started walking back towards the rink in silence but about half way there Yuri spoke again, “You had to be pretty confident to argue with Viktor that you could have landed the triple axel.”

“I’ve landed it twice,” she replied with reverberating conviction, “But I _know_ it would have been three times.”

Yuri nodded, inclined to believe that she was capable of telling mid-jump if it would be a success or not. Now how clean of a triple axel she could manage would be debatable until they got to see her land one.

“Yakov will let you keep practicing it once your punishment is up. It’s not like you were practicing quads,” he said the last past casually before glancing over at her.

Vera kept a straight face, suspiciously so. It was just like Yuri thought then.

“I hated it too,” he said, remembering how it took Viktor giving him a challenge and promising a prize at success for him to stop practicing quads behind Yakov’s back. Yuri wasn’t sure if that method would work on Vera. “But there is a good reason why Yakov doesn’t let anyone under fifteen practice quads.”

“…How did you guess?” She asked quietly, as if a low voice would somehow make her less guilty.

“Because sneaking out to practice alone is overkill for a jump that Yakov would have allowed once he decided you were ready.”

“Oh…”

He reached over and ruffled her hair. “As long as you don’t do anything like that again, I won’t tell Yakov.”

Yuri was curious if Vera had managed to land a quad but he resisted asking. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage her.

When they arrived at the rink, Vera glanced around. Mila was talking to Yakov, while Yuuri continued his practice.

“Hello again, Vera-chan!” Viktor called before returning his attention to his husband.

 Vera waved back before dropping her school bag and going through her stretches. A few minutes later she suddenly stopped mid-stretch, dropping her leg back down, and practically scurried off toward Yakov and Mila. Yuri stared after her in confusion.

“Yurio,” Katsudon said as he glided over, “Could you hand me that water bottle?”

Yuri picked it up and passed it over. “What was that?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Verushka just ran away from you.”

Katsudon shrugged and got that mopey expression. “I don’t think she likes me. She avoided talking to me last night too.”

“Bullshit. I know she respects you and your skating.”

Katsudon’s frown deepened. “That’s not the same thing.”

* * *

Vera was _stressed_. It might be the off season for her chosen sport, but exam time for school was right around the corner. When she wasn’t at the rink, her entire world seemed to revolve around studying. Then when she was at the rink, Coach Yakov was breathing down her neck because she was still on thin ice (ha ha).

On top of all that, she had no idea how to act around Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. Viktor was all cheerful smiles and chattering advice. His husband… didn’t seem to care one way or the other. It didn’t help that seeing Yuuri Katsuki skate in person was so much more incredible than Vera had ever imagined. Whenever he practiced a step sequence, everyone in the room just stopped to watch because it was impossible not to.

That was what they were doing at the moment: watching Yuuri Katsuki dance smoothly across the ice with the most complex and intricate step sequence Vera had ever seen. She couldn’t have looked away even if she had wanted to.

“Yuuri! Perfect!” Viktor clapped once Yuuri finished the sequence.

Yuri groaned. “I need to re-think my step sequence.”

As Yuuri glided over toward them, Vera shifted so that Yuri ended up in between them. Viktor leaned over the rink wall to hug and nuzzle his husband without a care about how sweaty Yuuri was.  

“Stop being so gross,” Yuri grumbled, “There’s a kid here.”

“I’m thirteen,” Vera replied in her best ‘I’m not a little kid anymore’ tone.

“Yurio, don’t use Vera-chan as an excuse,” Viktor said before smooching Yuuri.

A pair of hands covered Vera’s eyes.

“Yuri!” She whined and pried his hands off.

Viktor laughed and untangled his arms from his husband, while Yuuri just shook his head and stepped off the ice.

“I’ll stop hogging the rink,” he said. Soon enough the couple was walking off as they discussed plans for dinner.

Vera sighed, suddenly feeling very small. Being ignored was the worst.  

“What’s with that face, Verushka?”

“Yuuri Katsuki is…intimidating.”

“What?!” The question came out like a choke of disbelief.

“He’s one of the best, and has been skating for so long. And he looks so serious most the time,” she was rambling at this point but didn’t care, “And he barely acknowledges me. It’s like I’m not worth his time at all…”

“You gotta be- Katsudon is an idiot!”     

* * *

Later that evening Yuri knocked on the door of the Katsuki-Nikiforov apartment. Why they had decided to keep the apartment after Viktor retired for good and they’d moved back to Hasetsu was beyond Yuri. Staying at a hotel during the off season and occasional business related visits would have been simpler.

A moment later Viktor opened the door. He was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the cook’ aprons.

“Yurio?”

“I need to yell at Katsudon,” Yuri stated as he practically shoved his way inside.

“Um?” Katsudon said, looking over at Yuri from the kitchen. He had on a tacky ‘kiss the cook’ apron too. For the millionth time, Yuri wondered why these two were so…cheesy.

He then focused on the task at hand. “Verushka avoids you because you intimidate her.”

“What?” A look of pure confusion crossed Katsudon’s face. “How am I intimidating?”

“Lyubimyy,” Viktor said as he closed the door, “You’ve always had trouble seeing the effect you have on other people.”

“Oh…That’s true.” Kastudon sighed. “How do I fix this then?”

Yuri crossed his arms and glared accusingly. “You could start by saying ‘hello’ to her in practice. She’s convinced you want nothing to do with her.”

“But I thought she didn’t want to talk to me.”

“This is why you’re an idiot.”

“What a misunderstanding,” Viktor added in a completely unsurprised tone. He then went to check on the food. “Yurio, since you’re here, care to have dinner with us?”

“Sure.”

* * *

Vera went through practice in a half-dazed state. Her study-crammed brain was too tired to think of much more than what she was told. While her brain was offline, her other muscles were thrilled for the chance to stretch. It was a rarity to get through an entire practice without Coach Yakov so much as raising his voice. However, as she later sat on the bench unlacing her skates, Vera realized that today was one of those rare days.

“Vera-chan, come here a moment.”

She looked up and blinked. Yuuri Katsuki was speaking to her? She stared uncertainly for a second before slipping on her shoes and walking over to him.

“I noticed that your footwork has a distinctive style at times,” he explained. Then his tennis shoes tapped against the concrete floor: toe, heel, ball, shuffle, toe.

Excitement sparked in her; it’d been forever since she’d danced anything but ballet. Vera grinned and quickly copied the movements. She even added an extra flourish at the end.

“Oh?” A smile spread across Yuuri’s face.

It then devolved into a back and forth of increasingly complex dance steps. Yuuri danced as he always did, with confidence and ease, while Vera frowned in concentration as she struggled to complete half-remembered steps. Eventually she tripped up and had to admit defeat.

“What was that?” Yuri asked. The impromptu contest had drawn everyone’s attention; Viktor had even recorded it and was in the process of gleefully posting it online.

“Tap dance,” Yuuri answered.

“I figured that much out,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes before turning to Vera, “But since when can you tap dance, Verushka?”

“Always,” she replied and then seeing everyone’s confused expressions added, “I mean, my dad used to teach tap dance so I learned it really young.”

“Suddenly you being able to scale down the step sequence of Agape makes more sense,” Yuri said pensively, for a split second at least. “You never thought to mention it?”

“I didn’t think tap dance would help with my skating…” She answered, blushing in embarrassment because it apparently had helped.

They all stared at her a moment. Then Yuuri promptly turned to Coach Yakov.

“Yakov, you should enroll her in a class before the season starts. Bringing out that style more will help with her performance score.”

Vera decided that it was hard to be intimidated by someone who’d just tap danced with her.

* * *

A few days later Vera practically skipped into the rink for practice. Yuri and Mila had time on the ice that morning, while Yuuri got a couple hours of private practice in between lunch and her getting out of school. However, as Vera came in, Yakov and Viktor were the only ones within sight. She stopped right in front of Coach Yakov. The two coaches paused their conversation as Yakov turned to sternly stare at her.  

“You’re practicing jumps again today.”

“Yes!” She quickly hugged him and then ran off to stretch.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Yakov muttered.

“There, there,” Viktor said, briefly patting his shoulder. He then snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. I’ve been wanting to see Vera-chan skate Agape.”

Yakov stared at his former star pupil a moment before nodding. “Do what you want, Vitya.”

“Hey, Vera-chan!” Viktor yelled so that echoed across the rink, “Would you skate Agape for me after you warm up?”

Vera glanced over from where she was using the rink wall as a makeshift barre. Despite his goofy smile, there was a calculating glint in Viktor’s eyes. His request felt like some sort of test.

“Okay.”

Once she had finished stretching and warmed up, Vera glided to the center of the rink and settled into position. The soprano vocals of On Love: Agape drifted through the air. She lifted her hands to the sunbeams falling through the windows. The choreography of Agape was imbedded in her body and soul. Her every motion proclaimed this to be her inspiration and solace.

As she approached the first jump, Vera made a split second decision. She leapt into the axel and rotated once, twice, and then three-

Not enough momentum. She came out of the rotation too soon. Her foot wasn’t fully in position yet. On trained instinct, Vera threw out a hand to the ice to push herself back up.

Coach Yakov was going to yell at her again. The thought made her smile as she continued skating.

Vera lost herself to the music and ice after that. She knew this program – flying sit spin turned Biellmann, triple salchow-double toe loop combination with an arm raised, triple toe loop again with an arm raised – inside out.

It was half way through the step sequence that Vera realized her mistake. Trying to do a triple axel instead of a double had used too much energy. Her lungs were burning and her limbs quickly weakening. Finally the step sequence ended and she glided into the last spin. For a spin that Yuri had spent so much time helping her perfect, it was horribly sloppy. Vera was a little glad he wasn’t there to see it.

Finally she pulled out of the spin and raised her clasped hands as if praying. Her chest rose and fell as she gasped desperately for breath. The triple axel had been a failure and mistake but Vera didn’t regret trying.

The sound of clapping shook her out of her thoughts. Vera dropped her hands as she turned to look at Viktor. Perhaps Yakov could decipher his expression but for Vera it was unreadable.

“I’ve decided,” Viktor stated as he stopped clapping, “I’ll choreograph for your international debut.”   


	8. Choreography And Assignments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vera decides that Viktor is a hellish choreographer. Yuuri drops a bomb. An argument over titles occurs. And the Grand Prix assignments are released.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got questioned on where Vera has been living last chapter. I hadn’t fully decided so I was being rather dodge-y about putting it in the fic. I’ve now decided that she lives in a dormitory building that’s specifically for minors training to become competitive athletes. Since it’s fairly close to at least two rinks, most the kids there are probably training for ice sports. 
> 
> Also my headcanon is that post-actually-stays-retired Viktor choreographs for other skaters (most commonly Team Russia but really just about any skater that asks/catches his interest) in addition to being Yuuri’s coach.

“I’ve decided. I’ll choreograph for your international debut.”  

Vera stared as she slowly comprehended that statement. Viktor Nikiforov was generally considered the best choreographer in figure skating. All the world record holding programs in men’s singles had been crafted by him; as had the world record holding free skate for ladies’ singles. It was even said that a Nikiforov choreographed program was a guarantee to place on the podium.

And he wanted to choreograph for _her_.

“I- Thank you.”

Viktor smiled at her before asking them both, “Has a theme been decided yet?”

Yakov nodded. “Vera has a specific theme she wants to pursue. I’ve held off calling in a choreographer because you’re the best suited for it.”

“Oh, so you knew I’d want to choreograph for Vera-chan.”

“Of course you wouldn’t be able to resist it,” Yakov replied gruffly before turning to his youngest student, “Let him hear that song you’ve been bothering me about.”

Vera ran over to grab her phone. She quickly returned, scrolling until she found the song, and then hit play. The song filled the chilled air. Viktor’s expression became pensive as he listened to the music and lyrics.

“American Broadway, huh.” A spark seemed to light in his eyes. “This is a bold song.”

“It’s always been one of my favorites, even before I knew enough English to understand it,” Vera replied. Truthfully, it had been one of her father’s favorites. His love for the song had passed on to her and then grown once she could understand what it was about.

“Yes, that’ll work,” Viktor said distractedly before pulling out a small notebook and pen. He then began scribbling notes.

“Get back on the ice,” Yakov ordered, “We’ll talk discuss your short program later. He’ll be like this for a while.”

* * *

Viktor, she decided a few days later as he showed her the short program, was a hellish choreographer.

It was gorgeous, extremely so, but it was also brutal. He’d made it look easy, giving the program a deceivingly weightless sensation. Yet Vera knew right away that it was a little beyond her current skill level.

Once she’d stepped on the ice so Viktor could take her through the choreography step-by-step, Vera realized how right she was. Both the transitions and step sequence were a string of complex movements that she lacked the fluidity and precision to properly skate.

To make matters worse, Viktor had suggested to Coach Yakov that all the jumps should be backloaded to the second half.

His reasoning: _“She has enough stamina to sneak in extra practice. She can handle it.”_

Apparently deciding she still needed to be punished, Coach Yakov had agreed with him. So she needed more fluidity, precision, and stamina than she currently had to cleanly skate the short program… It made Vera wonder how challenging the free skate would be.  

“Vera-chan,” Viktor called out, smiling in a way that didn’t seem like a smile at all, “Stay focused.”

Vera snapped out of her thoughts and got into position to run through it yet again.

Eventually Vera was let off the ice. She was still a long way from mastering the choreography but both of them needed a break. As Vera collapsed on the nearest bench, Mila walked over and sat down next to her.

“We have a saying. If you survive long enough to learn a Viktor program, then you deserve a spot on the podium,” Mila said, patting her back consolingly, “And you already know you can do it.”

Vera pouted. “That’s different. My version of Agape is scaled down from the original, but I can’t do that with a competition program.”

“Knowing Viktor, that’s probably the point.”

She then patted Vera’s head and hopped back up. Vera watched her go while tapping her skate guards against the floor. Yuri’s world record Agape was still years out of reach, but the program Viktor made for her was only a little out of her reach. It was a challenge but a doable one.

Maybe Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t that hellish choreographer after all.

* * *

Three days later Vera was able to skate the short program choreography well enough that Viktor decided it was time for her to start working on her free skate.

Three days later Vera changed her mind again: Viktor was definitely a hellish choreographer.

* * *

Lilia watched with a critical eye as Yuri rotated his leg behind him and raised it high. The position was a little difficult to hold but Yuri was determined. Fans and sports reporters often spoke in amazement of how he’d managed to keep much of his pre-growth spurt flexibility. Few seemed to recognize all the effort that went into maintaining it.

It was like being on the ice. The goal was to make it look effortless even when it was far from it.

Lilia made minor corrections as she had him repeat the excises again and again. However, before his practice session came to a close, Yuri mentioned, “Viktor gave me a few ideas on how to adjust my choreography.”

“Show me.”

Yuri nodded and went to the center of the room.

* * *

Yuri entered the rink later that afternoon. Vera and Katsudon were gliding around the ice; the later helping the former with her step sequence. Yuri walked up and leaned against the rink wall to watch them. Seeing Vera act like her normal self around Katsudon made a small smile cross Yuri’s lips.

The two noticed him a few minutes later. Katsudon paused to wave a greeting, while Vera’s face lit up.

“Yuri!”

“That’s the best step sequence I’ve seen from you yet,” he called.

“I can do better,” she replied, a steely glint in her eyes.

Yuri chuckled because wasn’t that weirdly familiar. “If you keep working on it.”

She nodded and immediately pushed herself into another run through of it. Katsudon shook his head but smiled fondly before gliding over toward Yuri.  

“She reminds me a little of you as a teenager,” Katsudon said as he reached the rink wall.

“How so?”

“Viktor had us watching all the videos Yakov sent over to get an idea of her style and capabilities,” Yuuri explained, “I haven’t seen any skater evolve so quickly since you. It makes me wonder what her skating will be like by the end of the season.”

Yuri nodded. Vera’s rate of improvement was along the lines of what he’d been expecting from her. Somehow he got the feeling that it only gave farther weight to Katsudon’s observation.

“The ladies’ bracket won’t know what hit them.”

“Mila, at least, has an idea,” Katsudon replied before turning to him, “What about you? How’s your free skate coming along?”

“Lilia and Viktor have given their opinions and advice,” he answered.

“So you’re not sharing with me then.”

Yuri frowned at him. “You and the old man have been secretive about your programs too.”

“Yeah…” A melancholy expression settled on Katsudon’s face. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m retiring after the Grand Prix.”

There was a long moment of silence but for the sound of Vera’s blades against the ice. And then:

“What?!”

“Yurio,” Katsudon said slowly, “I’m turning _thirty_ this year. I nearly retired after World’s.”

Yuri felt like his world had been flipped upside down. Sure, he had known Katsudon would have to retire eventually. Yet it wasn’t like with Viktor. Yuri always had accepted – hell, anticipated – that Viktor would retire and pass down the title of Russian Champion to him. Yuri had only wanted Viktor to stick around long enough for him to beat the Living Legend in competition at least once (which he had).

Katsuki Yuuri was different. Katsuki Yuuri had been his wake up call to the difficulty and challenge that was the senior division. Katsuki Yuuri was his _rival_.

Yuri blinked, feeling dazed. “Why didn’t you?”

“There are a few reasons,” Katsudon replied, “But mostly I wanted to compete against you one more time.”

“Oh…”

Yuri glanced over the ice to Vera. She was so wrapped up in her practice that she was oblivious to them and their conversation. Yuri noted suddenly that the three of them might as well be representations of a figure skater’s competitive career: Vera, who was approaching the milestone of her international debut. Yuri was in his prime, of course. And finally Yuuri, who was at the tail end of a long and groundbreaking career.

Dammit. Katsudon was making him get all sentimental over this.

“Would me breaking your world record change your mind?”

Katsudon had the nerve to laugh.

* * *

The restaurant was filled with chatter. All of them – Yuri, Yakov, Mila, Vera, Lilia – had gathered for dinner the last night before Viktor and Katsudon left for Japan again. Even Georgi, busy with ice shows in his retirement, had managed to join them.

Katsudon was talking to Lilia about his ballet teacher, who had been a slightly younger contemporary of Lilia’s. Viktor was listening in rapt interest as Georgi gushed over his fiancé (eugh, those two encouraged each other), while Yakov generously sipped at his drink. The moment Georgi pulled out his phone to show off photos Mila glanced over at Yuri. He nodded in reply and waved down the waiter so they didn’t have to deal with this completely sober either.

Meanwhile, Vera was ignoring the conversations she found uninteresting in favor of scrolling through social media.

“They’re calling that Spanish girl, Laia Castell, the favorite for winning the junior Grand Prix,” she said suddenly.

“Vera-chan,” Viktor replied, turning from his conversation with Georgi, “While it’s good to keep up with your competitors, you should take a break from it all sometimes.”

“I take breaks,” she insisted, “I hang out with my friend on off days. And play games and stuff with the others at the dorm sometimes.”

Vera made a face then. “Those assholes-”

“Language, young lady.” Lilia immediately snapped and glared at Yuri with a ‘this is your fault’ expression.

Yuri didn’t think that was particularly fair. He’d been careful about his choice of words around the kid. Or he tried to be at least. He’d slipped up a few times.

Wait.

“Why are you calling your dorm mates assholes?” He didn’t even bother hiding the protective edge in his tone.

Vera just pouted. “Some of the hockey players have been calling me ‘Her highness, the Silver Printsessa of the Feltsman dynasty’.”

Mila burst out laughing. “The entire title?!”

“Every time they see me,” Vera answered with a huff, “It’s annoying.”

Mila continued giggling. Most the table joined in, which only made the kid pout more.

“That’s great! We should all have titles like that!” Mila declared.

Yakov finished off his drink and waved over the waiter for another.

Georgi was quickly and unanimously granted the title of Grand Duke of Emotiveness. Mila decided that since Vera was the ‘Silver Printsessa’, then she should be the ‘Golden Printsessa’. Vera argued against that because she wanted be ‘golden’.

“Clearly,” Yuri commented, “I’m the Tsar.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow from across the table. “Oh, so you have a five year winning streak, Yurio?”

“You’re retired, old man! You gave up your title!”

“So’s Georgi, and he gets a title,” Viktor replied, pouting.

“Since it’s the Feltsman dynasty, doesn’t that make Yakov the Tsar,” Katsudon said.

“Yuuuri,” Viktor cried and launched himself at his husband, “How could you!”

“Eugh. Just go back to Japan already.”

There was a moment of silence around the table. Then Vera spoke again:

“If we’re Russian figure skating royalty, then Katsudon must be the Emperor of Step Sequences and Prince-Consort of the Quad Flip.”

Katsudon blinked at her, unfazed by his clingy husband wrapped around him. “You’re calling me Katsudon now?”

“Calling you both Yuri is confusing. So you’re Katsudon.”

Yuri laughed vindictively.    

* * *

Despite being summer, the early morning air had a hint of chill. Not that it really bothered any of the Russians passing through the airport, though a few obvious international travelers were unnecessarily bundled up.

“You didn’t have to come see us off, Yurio,” Viktor said.

“I had leftover katsudon-pirozhki,” he replied, shrugging and tossing the paper bag at Katsudon, “It’ll be better than shit airplane food.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever. Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because this is your last Grand Prix.”

Katsudon smiled in amusement. “Of course not.”

Then the two older men squished him into a hug.

“Call me if you want any more advice.”

“If we don’t get an assignment together, see you at the final.”

“You two are too sentimental.” After a few moments, Yuri escaped their gripes. “Go on before you miss the flight. And tell Yuuko and everyone I say hi.”

* * *

Yuri watched as Vera rotated mid-air. He immediately spotted the problem and knew what was about to happen a split second before she tumbled downward and hit the ice. She sat up with a frustrated huff.

“Why is this so hard?! I’ve done it before!”

“Your timing for the landing is still off. Watch closely.”

He skated around to build up a little momentum and then leapt into a triple axel. The jump was second nature; and, he landed it cleanly. Vera nodded before making another attempt. This time she managed a shaky landing.

“Yes!” She beamed.

“Better. Let’s see if you can do it again.”

However, before Vera could try another triple axel, Yakov practically ran into the rink.

“Gran Prix assignments are posted!”

They both glanced at the coach and then each other before quickly gliding over to the rink wall.

“Vera,” Yakov said, “You’ve been assigned to St. Gravis, France and the Cup of Mordovia. You’ll be up against Castell and Stephanova in St. Gravis.”

A determined expression settled across Vera’s face as she nodded. Going against the overall favorite and a rival from nationals was going to make for an interesting first qualifying competition.

“Yuri,” Yakov continued, “You’re at Rostelecom Cup and NHK Trophy.”

Rostelecom Cup? His first competition after his year break would be in Moscow then. The so called hometown advantage was always a double edged sword. Yuri took a deep breath.

“What about Katsudon?”

Yakov shook his head. “Skate America and Cup of China.”

Yuri sighed. So they wouldn’t meet until the final... Maybe it was better that way.

At that moment Mila burst through the doors.

“Yakov, I got your message! Where am I assigned?”

* * *

* * *

Vera sat on her bed with her phone in hand. All she had to do was hit call…

Her finger didn’t budge.

Though Coach Yakov had to be in contact with her mother, Vera hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year and even then they’d only exchanged a few words. Still Vera had called to leave a message about each of her upcoming competitions. She’s long stopped hoping her mother would come. Not when her mother hadn’t come to any of novice competitions or regional qualifiers or even nationals.

France was out of the question, of course. It was too far away and would be too expensive of a trip. Saransk might be doable if her mother could get the time off work. But again, there was no point in hoping was there?

Vera backed out of the call options and dropped her phone on the bed.  


	9. JGP Series France: Friends And Rivals (Short Program)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m Vera Kotova, a junior figure skater making my international debut at the Junior Grand Prix Series. My first qualifying event is in St. Gervais, France. I’m a little nervous but excited to leave Russia for the first time and meet other skaters from around the world! Wish me luck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be going on an out of town trip next week so the next update might take longer than usual. 
> 
> Also just a heads up going into this. The current RL world records for junior ladies’ is 70.92 for sp, 138.02 for fs, and 208.60 for ts. For the purpose of this fanfic, the world record scores have been bumped up some (don't ask me how much yet - I'm still figuring it out).

“Our littlest kitten off to kick international butt,” Mila cooed, pulling Vera into a hug.

“Mila!” Vera huffed but seemed content with being wrapped in Mila’s arms.

Yuri glowered. “Stop strangling her, hag.”

“Aww, do you want in the hug too Yuri?” Mila grinned and shifted so she had a free hand. Yuri tried to escape but he wasn’t quick enough. He was tugged down into the hug.

Mila clung to them both. Vera giggled. Yuri scowled but tolerated the affection. Off to the side, Yakov returned from checking their luggage.

“Is this going to take long?” Yakov asked, unamused, “We have flight to catch.”

Mila released her death grip hold on the two and smiled sheepishly at their coach.

“Skate like you do in practice, Verushka,” Yuri said as he ruffled her hair, “And you’ll get on the podium for sure.”

Vera nodded with her expression serious and determined. “I’ll come back with a medal.”

“No slacking while I’m gone!” Yakov ordered.

“We know,” the skaters chimed in unison.

Yakov stared sternly at them a moment before nodding in satisfaction. He then headed toward the terminal entrance with Vera following after.      

* * *

Their flight landed in Geneva, Switzerland about six hours after later. Vera didn’t remember much of the flight itself. After staring out the window at the clouds below them for about twenty minutes, she’d fallen asleep and didn’t budge until Coach Yakov was shaking her awake. Vera drowsily followed her coach as they collected their luggage and boarded the bus that would drive them another two hours to the French mountain resort town.  

By the time the bus pulled into St. Gervais, Vera was wide awake. The town was tiny compared to St. Petersburg of course. The architecture was different in an exotic but quaint way. The snowcapped mountain – Mount Blanc – overlooking the town was breathtaking. It felt like they’d stepped into a souvenir post card. Vera pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures.

They got out at the bus terminal and unloaded their bags before loading them into yet another vehicle that would take them to the hotel. At this point Vera just wanted to be there and get settled. Then maybe do a little exploring. After spending most the day sitting, Vera wanted to move around.

Finally they reached the hotel. Vera practically sprinted inside, pulling her luggage behind her. Coach Yakov followed at a slower pace and went up to the front desk to check in. Vera tried to wait patiently but ended up tapping her foot in annoyance as she glanced around the lobby.

There was a group of teenagers hanging around and chatting nearby. They seemed like an international mix, and a few wore various national team jackets. So they were other figure skaters then. One – a boy wearing what Vera thought might be a Canadian team jacket – must have noticed her staring because he looked up.

“Hey, one of the Russians!” He then separated from his group and jogged over to her. “I’m Phillipe.”

“I am Vera,” she replied, the English rolling awkwardly off her tongue.

Taking a closer look at Phillipe, Vera thought there was something vaguely familiar about him. She just couldn’t place a finger on why. Phillipe, however, didn’t seem to have that problem.

“You’re _that_ Vera! Vera Kotova,” he replied, “Duh, of course you are. You’re with Feltsman.”

“I guess I am…”

Was it normal for international skaters to know of each other like this? She hadn’t bothered to look up any of the junior boys or ice dancers. Did that make her rude?

“A group of us are going sightseeing later,” he continued, oblivious to Vera’s internal crisis, “You can come if you want.”

She did want to go sightseeing; and, as she’d learned after moving to St. Petersburg, it was more fun exploring new places with other people. It’d be a way to get to know her fellow skaters too.

“I’ll ask my coach.”

* * *

Coach Yakov had relented to letting her go sightseeing with the only stipulations being that she not ruin her diet pre-competition and to be back by 8 PM. Since all the other kids had similar rules and curfews, it wasn’t a problem.

That was how just over an hour after arriving at the hotel, Vera found herself wandering the downtown area with nearly dozen other kids of varying nationalities and ethnicities. Mostly they took silly selfies as they went from shop to shop looking for souvenirs.

It was hard at times to understand the native English speakers – especially when they got talking fast or started throwing around slang terms – but Vera wasn’t the only one struggling. In one tourist trap store, she ended up having a stilted conservation with a Korean girl over how difficult keeping up with the main conversation was.

Eventually stomachs began to growl so they had a brief discussion on where to eat dinner. They ended up at a traditional French restaurant following the exclamation: “If I wanted burger and fries, I could’ve stayed in Colorado Springs”.

“Indoor or outdoor seating?” The hostess asked in practiced English the second their group walked in.

They all glanced at each other before coming to a silent but unanimous agreement.

“Outside.”

So they were led outside on the patio with picnic tables and a view of the mountains. Vera took another selfie as they sat down, Phillipe and the Korean girl leaning in on either side of her. The waiter soon brought out their drinks (with the impending competition, everyone asked for water) and menus.

Vera picked up the menu that was passed to her and stared at it in befuddlement. How was she supposed to decide on what to order when she couldn’t read French? Ask the waiter? Google translate?

One of the Americans, an ice dancer, must have noticed her expression. “Don’t worry. We brought our own translator.”

“Hey!” Phillipe cried, “Is that the only reason you guys invited me along?”

There was a chorus of “yes” from around the table.

Phillipe clutched his heart melodramatically. “Je me sens utilisé.”

Everyone laughed, not sure what he’d said but understanding the general gist of it. Phillipe then very graciously (or so he insisted) put his French fluency to use by reading the menu to them.

* * *

The next day was a solely for practice. Vera usually would have considered it unlucky that she was scheduled rink time in the early morning, but because of the time difference it still felt like she was sleeping in a little.  

Once she’d stretched properly, Vera handed her blade guards to Coach Yakov and stepped out onto the ice. There were a couple of girls already warming up. One immediately drew Vera’s attention due to the grace and confidence she skated with. She was older, fifteen or maybe sixteen, with dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun. 

Oh, Vera realized suddenly, that was Laia Castell. The girl that had won Junior World’s last season and was anticipated to sweep both JGPF and Junior World’s this season.

Vera skated around to warm up and then eased herself into practicing jumps. Sports journalists and speculating figure skating blogs had been saying since nationals that she had a good chance to make it to the final. However, none of them expected a fresh faced thirteen year old to win gold.

With annoyance humming in her bones, Vera flew into a triple salchow. A split second too late she realized that she’d over rotated just enough to mess up her foot position. She crashed and skidded as the cold seeped through her leggings and shirt.

Vera could feel her coach’s glare as she pushed up. Sure enough, Coach Yakov was standing rinkside with arms crossed in disapproval and an expression that clearly stated: _what was that._

“That was a sad excuse for a triple sal,” a voice said, in Russian instead of English, “Are you losing your touch, Kotova?”  

Vera turned to see familiar blonde hair, brown eyes, and sharp features. The girl was Klara Stephanova, the bronze medalist from nationals.

“I just got a little distracted,” Vera replied, gliding backwards away from her, “Good luck to us both. Not that I need it.”

She immediately leaped into another triple salchow, raising her arm up just because she could, and then nailed the landing.

* * *

yuri-plisetsky: why doesn’t anyone livestream the junior gps qualifiers #JGPSFrance

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            m-babicheva replied: sending you a link

            m-babicheva replied: appreciate your fans

* * *

* * *

Vera stared in front of the mirror, triple checking her appearance. Her short program outfit was non-traditional being a unitard instead of a leotard dress. The pants were black with glittering-gold designs streaking down the sides like shooting stars; the top half was made to look like a pink halter-style vest with gold hemming. Her face was touched up with just a little makeup, while her hair was pulled back into a braid. It was a little messy compared to when Yuri braided it. Maybe she should re-do it?

“Vera!” Yakov shouted from outside the dressing room.

Or not. It’d have to do.

Vera grabbed her Russian team jacket and slid it on as she hurried out the door. Yakov then ushered her down the hall toward the rink. As they joined the other girls and their coaches rinkside, Vera glanced around. The stands were pretty crowded; and, the most common flag dotting the crowd was Spain’s. However, there were also many Russian flags and fans wearing cat ears.

Yuri’s Angels had come to cheer for her due to pure association. It had happened at nationals too but that so many come all the way to France even though Yuri wasn’t here… It made her chest feel tight in a good way.

Then a prickling on her skin caused Vera to turn around. Klara Stephanova was staring at her again. However, before Vera could say anything or motion to her, Klara turned away. Vera let it go and continued looking around.

There were over hundred girls aiming for the top six slots that would move on the Grand Prix Final. That meant there were nearly forty girls here competing for a spot on the podium. A thick fog of clashing hopes and dreams swirled around them.

As the first groups’ warm up time on the ice ended, all but the very first skater left. The fight for the Grand Prix Final had officially begun.

Vera watched each short program with a competitor’s eye. By the end of the second group, not one had a score that neared hers from nationals. Vera glanced over toward Klara and then the Spanish girl, Laia Castell. Barring the sudden appearance of a dark horse, those two were the ones she needed to beat.

Finally it was her groups’ time to warm up. She took the guards off her skates and silently passed them to Coach Yakov before stepping on to the ice. She was quickly joined by both Klara and Laia, along with a few other girls whose names Vera hadn’t put faces to. They all skated around, warming up and testing a few jumps.

As the countdown to leave the rink hit below thirty seconds, Klara skated up next to her.

“You only got this far because Plisetsky has been playing favorites,” she said in English just loud enough that the other skaters could hear but the coaches couldn’t. Then she was gliding off toward the rink exit before Vera could fully digest her statement.

Laia skated over to her next, glaring in Klara’s direction. “Don’t listen to that. She’s trying to throw you off before you skate.”

“Thanks for worrying,” Vera replied, “But it doesn’t bother me.”

Laia shrugged before leaving the rink as well. Vera didn’t bother going to the exit but glided over to where Coach Yakov was waiting. He handed her a water bottle. She took a couple gulps before passing it back. Vera then slipped off her Russia team jacket – her bare arms exposed to the chilled air – and passed that to her coach as well.

“You’ve worked hard,” Coach Yakov said, “Show us what you’re capable of.”

Not trusting herself to speak when her nerves were barely suppressed, she simply nodded.

“The first skater of the last group, representing Russia,” the sports commentator called, “Vera Kotova!”

That was her cue. Vera pushed away from the wall and glided toward the rink center to the sounds of cheering. Vera then settled into her starting position.

“Vera will be skating to ‘[A Walk in the Skies](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dailymotion.com%2Fvideo%2Fxuotrh_sky-stroll_music&t=OGJkN2VkN2U1YTQ1MDdhYzNiNGVjYjFiMjcwODA0ZmZhOTVkOTZkZSwwZmNGZ09vMw%3D%3D&b=t%3AqAVC5BeJEdlfpEldpKEKrw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmurkymuse.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F158799600885%2Four-littlest-kitten-off-to-kick-international&m=1)’ from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle, as choreographed by Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere at the mention of the choreographer; a swelling anticipation from the audience and competition alike. However, Vera couldn’t focus on that as the music began playing. It started softly like a slow and leisurely stroll. The open choreography went along with that: leisurely but playful. Then it flowed into the step sequence. That looked leisurely and playful as well, at least from an outside perspective. As Vera glided and twisted through the steps and turns, Klara’s words echoed in her mind:

_“You only got this far because Plisetsky has been playing favorites.”_

Klara might have meant that rudely but she was right. Vera really wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t met Yuri. If Yuri hadn’t decided that it was worth convincing his coach and then a sponsor to take on a chance on a girl from the middle of nowhere… Where would she even be?

She would thank Yuri and Coach Yakov and everyone else by skating her best.

As the tension in the music began to rise, Vera went into a combination spin. From this point on the leisurely pace would be replaced with rapid shifts of intensity. A clash between creeping shadows and the pure joy of magic; or so the movie went. Coming out of the spin, Vera prepared for her first jump and leapt high into the air.

_“You want a triple axel in your short program?” Yakov had asked with brows raised._

_“I can do it.”_

She rotated once, twice, three and a half times. As her blade scratched down against the ice, her balance faltered. Vera quickly threw out a hand to steady herself as she mentally cringed. She couldn’t let that slip up throw her off. She was better than that.

She continued on, stretching her leg up into a spiral. Vera wanted to look like she was floating. Weightlessly, effortlessly floating.

She then leapt into a triple salchow with a bang of the music, a single arm gracefully lifted into the air. Vera landed cleanly and flowed right into another transition. Exhaustion was beginning to tug on her lungs and muscles. Viktor really was a hellish choreographer but as long it helped her become the best Vera decided it was worth it.

_Just a little more!_ She pleaded to her body as she leapt into the air again.

The ice was directly below her for one exhilarating moment. It wasn’t called a death drop for nothing. Then she landed on her right blade and bent down into a sitting position as the rink seemed to twirl around her. Once she came out of the spin, she skated a short distance for enough momentum as the music began to build again.

Finally she made the last jump: a triple flip followed immediately by a double toe loop, an arm once again gracefully lifted above her head. Her blade smoothly hit the ice. As the music came to an abrupt end, Vera spread her arms out in her finishing pose.

Like a light switch had been flipped, Vera was suddenly aware of all the clapping and cheers from the crowd. She gasped for breath a few seconds before bowing to the audience and judges. A few flowers and one cat plushie were tossed down to the ice. Vera sluggishly skated over for the plushie and grabbed the nearest flower, a pink rose, as well.

Then she exited the rink. Coach Yakov passed back her skate guards and let her grip his arm for balance as she put them on. As they walked over to the kiss and cry, he started nitpicking her performance. Vera knew she should be listening to the lecture but she was too tired to focus. Instead she collapsed on the chair to await her score.  

A few minutes later the score board read: 72.16

“Seventy two point sixteen,” the commentator confirmed, “A new personal best puts Vera Kotova in first place!”

Vera beamed and hugged the plushie, while Coach Yakov patted her shoulder in a show of pride.

They left the kiss and cry as the next skater took the ice. Vera didn’t get a chance to watch as a journalist for some skating magazine wanted to asked her a couple of questions. By the time they got away and waded through the crowd to the seating area, Klara Stephanova was about to begin her program.

The fellow Russian did well and had a strong new short program. Klara had farther polished all her technical elements, even nailing the jump that had arguably cost her silver during nationals. When Klara’s score of 70.64 came out, Vera let out a sigh of relief.

Then Laia Castell glided onto the ice in her flowy multi-colored leotard dress. The entire rink seemed to hold its breath as she got into position and the music began to play.

Laia was incredibly elegant and polished as she danced to the chords of the violin. Her spins were graceful in a way that was usually only seen in seniors. She landed all her jumps, including the triple axel that was so rare in their division (only two had attempted it today). Vera didn’t – couldn’t – look away until Laia had finished and began bowing, flowers and gifts raining down around her.

As Laia sat the kiss and cry with her coach and waited for her score, it was impossible to tell who was tenser: Vera or Laia. Vera bit her lip and fidgeted until finally the numbers blinked on the board: 71.89

Vera jumped up from her seat. “Yes!”

“Laia Castell’s score is seventy one point eighty nine,” the commentator once again confirmed, “That puts her in second place. Klara Stephanova is in third, and Vera Kotova in first!”

* * *

vera-kotova: A new personal best of 72.16 and in first place after the sp! #JGPSFrance

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though the link to Vera’s short program song is titled ‘Sky Stroll’, the official English title is ‘A Walk in the Skies’ so that’s why I called it that instead.
> 
> "Je me sens utilisé" = "I feel used" according to google translate, so if that's wrong please correct me.


	10. JGP Series France: Friends and Rivals (Free Skate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some skaters reach the top of the podium and others get their hopes dashed. Meanwhile, two fangroups temporarily forget their mutual antagonism to make silly and unnecessary comparisons to Shakespeare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I went on that out of town trip and then it took longer than I thought it would to get back into the swing of writing.
> 
> Also this is just a heads up/minor rant. I think that it’s sexist bullshit that women are allowed less time and one less jump than men in the free skate. Since YOI is a more ideal world where homophobia is non-existent, I’m also treating it as a more ideal world that’s not as sexist. The ladies’ brackets here have the same time and allowed number of jumps as the men’s. There is still a gap between men’s and ladies’ scores but that’s more because there’s been no woman "Viktor Nikiforov" to really push the boundaries. Quads are not uncommon for senior female skaters* (but almost never done in juniors) because again less systematic sexism and double standards.
> 
> *Mila and Sara are both fully capable of doing quads. I refuse to believe otherwise. Fight me. 
> 
> tl;dr In the universe of this fic, less sexism means lady figure skaters don’t have restrictions and double standards hampering them as a whole.

Vera was eating breakfast in the hotel dining area when Phillipe slid into the chair across from her. Being in the middle of chewing, she simply nodded at him in greeting. Vera figured he’d picked her table due to her being the only familiar face in the room. The ice dancers they’d hung out with the other day were likely already at the rink preparing for their short programs, while the other singles skaters had yet to make an appearance.

“Good job on your short program,” Phillipe said after taking a gulp of orange juice, “You were great.”

“Spasibo-” She paused and then repeated in English, “Thank you.”

“Did you see me skate?”

Vera shook her head and blushed a little out of embarrassment. “My coach made me go rest after it was over. I accidently slept through the boys’ short programs.”

He shrugged in a way that made it hard to tell if he cared or not. “Backloading all your jumps like that must have been exhausting.”

“It was worth it,” she replied before taking a bite of toast. Once she’d finished chewing, she asked, “How did you do? Since I missed it.”

He pushed scrambled eggs around on his plate. “I’m in fourth.”

“You still have a chance.”

“Yeah, it’s just…Everyone is expecting me to do well. I mean, I know they’ll understand if I mess up but my aunt and uncle and cousins have taught me so much. I don’t want to disappoint them.” He looked up, a little bashful. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“No,” she replied, thinking about how yesterday she’d wanted to skate her best for everyone that’d taught her, “I think I get it.”

He nodded in reply and ate silently for the rest of breakfast. Unsure of what to say, Vera decided to not break that silence. Soon enough both of them had finished their food.

“I should go meet my aunt,” Phillipe said as he stood up.

“Good luck,” she replied, “I’ll try not to nap through your free skate.”

That got a small smile out of him.  

* * *

Later that afternoon found Vera sitting among the crowd to watch the boys’ singles free skate. There were only a handful of skaters in each group that really caught her attention so Vera spent a lot of the time messing around on a game app. Vera finally looked up, stuffing her phone in her jacket pocket, when the last group’s warm up ended.

The fifth place skater wasn’t bad but he lacked a strong presence on the ice. It was a decent yet wholly unremarkable performance. When the boy stepped out of the rink and headed toward the kiss and cry, his shoulders slumped with the knowledge he wouldn’t make the Grand Prix cut.

Vera swept her eyes across the rinkside to spot her new friend. Phillipe, looking a little nervous but composed, was talking to a lady that was presumably his coach as he prepared for his turn. Wait! Vera focused on his coach. The woman’s red hair and short, stocky figure were instantly recognizable. That was Nathalie Leroy, a past champion ice dancer and now mother/coach of a rising ice dancing brother-sister pair and _Jean-Jacques Leroy_.

So Phillipe was training under the Leroy coaches? That was practically the Canadian equivalent of training under Yakov Feltsman.    

“The next skater, representing Canada,” the announcer introduced as Phillipe skated out to the center of the rink, “Phillipe Leroy!”

Vera’s brain promptly short circuited. She should have figured it out sooner. It was so obvious now that she mentally compared Phillipe to JJ. Sure, Phillipe had lighter hair and blue eyes but in terms of facial structure and physical build he looked so much like a younger version of JJ that they had to be related.

That became even more apparent as Phillipe began to skate. While he didn’t come across as egotistical like his older cousin, his outgoing nature shone brightly on the ice and quickly captivated the audience. He was skilled too, landing even the ever tricky triple lutz and triple axel with apparent ease.

Vera happily clapped along with the crowd as Phillipe settled into his ending pose. She then stood up while he was bowing and darted through the stands. She managed to get to the overhang right next to the rink entrance just as Phillipe stepped off the ice.  

Vera leaned against the railing and called down, “Durak!”

Phillipe, correctly guessing that the Russian shout was aimed at him, glanced up at Vera questioningly. “What?”

“You forgot to mention that you’re a _Leroy_ ,” she explained.

He looked confused for a split second but then started laughing. “Sorry. I’m used to people already knowing.”

“I guess I should have paid attention to more than just the skaters I’m competing against,” Vera replied, snorting at the situation. “You were great. You’ll make it to the Grand Prix Final for sure.”

Phillipe grinned.

“You can talk to your friend later,” his aunt/coach interrupted and ushered him toward the kiss and cry.

(Phillipe Leroy won gold.)

* * *

[image: A photo of Phillipe having just finished his free skate, while Vera is leaning over the railing of the stands to talk to him.]

Xx_YuriisLove_xx: I’m getting a starcrossed vibe here lol #GPSFrance

               i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat replied: wait what? Who’s the boy?

               JJgurl17 replied: that JJ’s cousin Phillipe. He’s competing in juniors this season

               Purrsetsky<3 replied: Vera and Phillipe have been posting selfies with each other

               KingJJ replied: OMG

               i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat replied: I wonder how Yuri and JJ are taking this XD

               sk8trcat23 replied: if anyone starts quoting Shakespeare I will hunt you down

               Xx_YuriisLove_xx replied: Kill joy

* * *

The hotel room was dark. The sounds of other guests walking and chatting in the hallway penetrated the wall. Vera groaned and rolled over on her side. The memory of nationals last December came unbidden to the top of her mind. She had been in first place after the short program and certain in her ability to keep the top score during the free skate. However, that had been overconfidence. Vera had lost to a more experienced skater.

Vera knew she was still relatively inexperienced. She knew that, just like her competitor in December, Laia Castell was almost ready to debut into seniors. Plus Laia had beaten the Russian National champion last March during Junior Worlds. A pressure settled on Vera at that thought; it was a mixture of anticipation and dread.

Then a giggling yell pierced through the hallway. A few moments later the door of the room next to hers opened. Coach Yakov bellowed much louder than the offenders:

“QUIET DOWN! PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! SOME OF THEM HAVE TO STAKE TOMORROW!”

“Sorry, s-sir!”

Vera giggled into her pillow as footsteps scampered away and the door clicked shut. Once it was quiet again, Vera shifted and closed her eyes. Slowly sleep claimed her.    

* * *

The next morning Vera stared intently into the mirror as she brushed the gold-sparkle eyeshadow on like Mila had taught her (“Don’t listen to Yuri when it comes to makeup,” she’d said, “He has that punk aesthetic and was taught by Georgi.”). Once the final touch was complete, Vera stood up and grabbed her bag as she left the dressing room. Her hair was already pulled up into a bun; and, her free skate outfit was hid under her team jacket. All that was left was to meet Coach Yakov and put on her skates.

“Vera,” a voice suddenly called, accent rolling over her name, “I was hoping to speak with you.”

Vera turned to see Laia Castell walking down the hall toward her. The Spanish skater was ready for the free skate as well; her outfit peeking out from her jacket and her makeup expertly done, while her hair was styled in a way that looked deceptively complex and intricate thanks to her curls. Laia came to a stop about a meter in front of Vera.

“About what?” Vera asked. If Laia hadn’t been so nice during the short program warmup, then she might have been hesitant about this.

“A lot of people are expecting me to sweep this season.”

Vera nodded. Laia was the current Junior World Champion and had earned that title with a sizable score gap. The pressure Vera had felt the night suddenly crashed back down.

“I realized after watching you skate that I was starting to take it for granted,” Laia continued, “But I can’t be lenient. I’m going all out to win against you.”

Not sure of how to reply to that declaration, Vera simply nodded again.

“See you on the podium.”

Laia then walked away and turned the corner. Vera shook herself out of the shock and went to find her coach.  

* * *

Yuris_angels: YURATCHKA IS IN THE LIVESTREAM CHAT!!! COMMENTING!!! #GPSFRANCE

               Xx_YuriisLove_xx  liked

               sk8trcat23 liked

               Purrsetsky<3 liked

               i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat liked

               i-wish-i-was-yuris-cat replied: OMGOMGOMG

               Xx_YuriisLove_xx  retweeted: THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED

               Yuris_angels retweeted: Mila is here too! She implied another big name skater is watching but not chatting!

               Purrsetsky<3 replied: My bet is Nikiforov. He did choreograph Vera’s programs

* * *

Vera stood rinkside next to Coach Yakov as they watched Klara shift into her ending pose. It had been a strong performance. Strong enough that when the score was announced Vera wasn’t surprised that Klara was now guaranteed a place on the podium. Whether that place would be bronze, silver, or gold would depend on how she and Laia did.

Speaking of Laia, she was given the go ahead to step onto the ice. She glided out to the ice to the sound of the announcer and the cheers of the crowd. Vera could see her take a deep breath before settling into her starting position.

Soft piano notes began to drift as Laia moved. Her motions were as elegant and precise as during the short program. Yet there was something different about her energy. Laia leapt into her first jump, a triple loop with hand gracefully positioned overhead. As she landed smoothly and passed by in front of Vera, her voice echoed:  

_“I can’t be lenient. I’m going all out to win against you.”_

Before Laia had assumed she’d breeze through these qualifications, but now she was skating with everything she had to take gold. Because of Vera.

Vera gulped. She wasn’t certain if it was out of nerves or anticipation. Either way she couldn’t look away as Laia proved without a doubt why she was the reigning Junior Ladies World Champion.

As the music faded into quiet, Laia shifted into her final pose. The crowd went wild then, cheering and clapping and throwing gifts down onto the rink. Laia panted to catch her breath and then bowed before leaving the ice.

Vera resumed her stretching while they waited for the score announcement. Eventually it blinked up on the screen: 132.54

“Laia’s free skate score is one hundred and thirty two point five four,” the announcer called, “That makes her total score two hundred and four point five three. Laia Castell is in first place!”

Vera winced. If – and only if – she skated her program perfectly, then she might beat that score. 

“Don’t focus on the numbers right now,” Coach Yakov said, “You’ll get yourself worked up over it.”

“Right.”

His expression made it clear she was in fact doing just what he’d warned against. Vera knew. She couldn’t help but think this was nationals all over again.

Yakov’s hand settled on her shoulder. “This is what you’ve been looking forward to since I took you on as a student. Remember that while you’re skating.”

Vera nodded and took a few calming breaths. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

The event workers signaled that they were done clearing off the rink. Vera unzipped her jacket, revealing her free skate outfit. It was a deep purple leotard dress. The shoulders and long sleeves were sheer, as was the layered skirt. The sheer parts of the outfit were speckled with gold.

Vera handed her jacket to Coach Yakov and then took off her skate guards. He took those as well. Then finally Vera stepped on the ice and glided to the center. She was aware of all the eyes on her. It was a little nerve-wracking but no more than nationals had been.

“Representing Russia, Vera Kotova!” The announcer exclaimed as Vera settled into position. “Vera is skating to ‘[Defying Gravity](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DGOZwJdpmdpw&t=NGM4MWY2NTRhYTQ4NmUzNjcwZTZjMTU1NTFhMWExNmM0ZmJlN2Y4MixUNHJGc09HbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AqAVC5BeJEdlfpEldpKEKrw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmurkymuse.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F159535775630%2Fvera-was-eating-breakfast-in-the-hotel-dining-area&m=1)’ by Idina Menzel. Her program was choreographed by Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

Vera took a breath as the music began to play. She turned on the ice as her arms swept wide in the opening choreography.

_She watched intently as Viktor showed her the choreography for her free skate. Trying to memorize it. Trying to picture herself skating it. Imagining which jumps and spins Coach Yakov would put in. She could already tell that it was going to take blood, sweat, and tears to master it._

_Viktor came to a still before turning toward her. His eyes seemed to say: this is what you wanted, a bold free skate for your international debut._

Now for the first jump. Vera leapt with the lyrics and both arms raised above her head. She rotated two and a half times before landing smoothly. It was a simple start but it that didn’t last long. Next was the most difficult combination jump Vera was currently capable of.

Triple flip. Double toe loop. Triple loop.

Her blade was a little wobbly on the final landing but she kept her balance! However, Vera couldn’t let up. Once she’d regained momentum she leapt into the next jump. This time a double lutz with both arms raised. Her blades again scratched smoothly against the ice when she nailed the landing.

As the song shifted into the second verse, Vera glided a little ways before transitioning into a camel spin. Her body stretched perfectly parallel to the ice as she hummed the lyrics in her head to match them. After a half dozen full rotations she pulled out of the spin.

Then the second chorus signaled another round of jumps. Vera was convinced the real reason Viktor and Coach Yakov had backloaded her jumps in her short program was to help her build up enough stamina for these near back-to-back jumps during her free skate.

Triple salchow with an arm raised high. Easy but she was getting tired.

(I’d sooner buy defying gravity)

Triple loop. Her muscles and lungs were burning.

(Kiss me goodbye, defying gravity)

Triple flip. If she could just hold out a little longer!

(I think I’ll try defying gravity)

Another combination: triple salchow followed by a double toe loop. A single arm raised high.

(And you won’t bring me down)

As Vera’s blade scratched cleanly across the ice, she felt a wave of relief. So far she’d landed all her jumps!

Vera took that relief as a second wind and used the energy to spur on her step sequence. She twisted and turned and stepped across the ice, cutting even more lines into the frosted surface. Then as the step sequence came to an end Vera prepared for her final jump.

(But I swear someday, I’ll be-)

Vera leapt into the air: a triple lutz.  

(-flying so high!)

She came down wrong. Vera threw out a hand to the ice and just barely managed to keep from falling on her butt.

Dammit! There went her shot at gold!

Vera circled the rink in a small reprieve before her last element. She was so frustrated and annoyed at herself! She made the quick decision to give her combination spin a flying entrance. It wouldn’t make up for the lost points but it was something.

Vera leapt one last time for the flying entrance into a sit spin. Then, while she was still spinning, Vera stood up and stretched her leg up so that she was in Beillmann position. As the music began to wind down, Vera pulled out of the spin and shifted into her ending pose.

Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her chest huffed and heaved as she attempted to catch her breath. Clapping and cheers rang in her ears, while flowers were thrown down to her.

Vera didn’t need to get to the kiss and cry to know where on the podium she’d soon be standing. Even so, once she shakily stepped off the ice, Coach Yakov ushered her over to wait for her score.

(Free skate score: 130.74;Total score: 202.90)

* * *

About a half hour later Vera was standing to the right and a step below Laia. Klara stood on the lowest step of the podium. She didn’t seem thrilled with bronze. Then again Vera wasn’t thrilled with silver. Of course, she was happy to be one step closer to the Grand Prix Final. It was just…

She’d made a mistake and lost to a more experienced skater _yet again_. It was disappointing.

“At the Grand Prix Final,” Vera said, looking up Laia, “I’m going to knock you off the top.”

Laia glanced down at her, a smile on her lips. “I look forward to seeing you try.”

* * *

Vera pulled her luggage behind her as she and Coach Yakov walked out of the airport. She took a deep breath of salt tanged air. The feeling of home immediately settled on her shoulders like a warm quilt.

“Oi! Verushka!”

Her head spun around until she spotted Yuri walking toward them. Vera dropped her luggage, rightly assuming that her coach would pick it up (though he’d scold her about it once he caught up), and sprinted toward Yuri. He stopped and braced as Vera flung herself at him.

“Brat,” he grumbled but still caught and lifted her.

“Hey.”

“Hey to you too,” he replied before lowering her enough so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, “How does it feel it have an international medal?”

Vera pouted. “…Frustrating. I was so close to gold!”

“Thought so. But now you know firsthand what you’re up against.”

She nodded as a determined expression settled on her face.    

“Good.” Yuri paused a second before asking, “But did you have to befriend JJ’s cousin?”

Since his tone tinted with playful exasperation, Vera laughed and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durak = Russian insult referring to someone as a “fool” or “stupid” (Yuri’s habit of insulting people is rubbing off on Vera a little lol)


	11. A Day In The Life Of Vera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning from France, Vera has a perfectly normal day. Or at least it starts out normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this chapter took. Between being busy and getting sick, this past month has been rough on me. But I was finally able to finish this chapter!
> 
> Also I am only assuming that Russian schools have field trips. I don’t see why they wouldn’t, especially when historic places are so close by like in this case.

Vera woke to the blaring beep of her alarm. She groaned and blindly reached for her phone. It blinked 5:01 AM. There was a notification under the time reminding her that today’s morning training was conditioning. Vera groaned again as she rolled out of bed.

Not fifteen minutes later Vera was leaving the dorm building with gym clothes under her winter jacket and chugging down a protein shake. She made it to the rink with five minutes to spare. Instead of heading to the ice, Vera veered into to the exercise room on the side of the building.

For five thirty in the morning, the exercise room was rather lively. There were already a couple of athletes working out, while various trainers hovered and gave directions. Of the athletes here, the majority were around Vera’s age or just a little older. Between some combination of low seniority, not being able to afford private trainers, and having to schedule around school Vera and her cohort tended to get stuck with the worst gym hours.

“Hey, her Highness the Silver Printsessa is back!” Cheered a junior hockey player with high hopes to one day join the national and Olympic team.

Vera rolled her eyes at him. Either he was oblivious or didn’t care.

“How’d that competition go?” Vera’s expression must have given it away because a second later he asked, “So the Silver Printsessa got silver again?”  

“That’s more medals than you have,” she replied.

The others snickered. Even the hockey player laughed. Then Vera’s trainer arrived right on time and her day truly began.

* * *

By eight o’clock Vera was settling into her seat. All around her classmates seemed oddly excited for the school day to begin. Even the girl who normally fell back asleep with her head on the desk was up and chatting.  

“What’s going on?”

The student sitting in front of her turned around. “Did you forget? We’re going to the Hermitage today.”

Vera blinked. She really had forgotten. She’d been too wrapped up in preparing for her competition in France to pay much attention to anything school related that wasn’t immediately due.

“Oh.”

* * *

With the high columns and imposingly large doors, walking into the Hermitage Museum was like walking into a palace. Granted, it had started as an offshoot of the Winter Palace that later become a part of the museum as a monument. The details of which were explained in the doldrum lecturing voice of their history teacher.

Inside was just as beautiful as the outside with marble flooring and gold accents on the walls. Vera and all the other students that had never visited the museum before were left in slight awe. Their teacher, ever the stuffy old lady, gave them yet another long lecture before passing out worksheets to do as they went on the tour.

“Remember that an essay on the trip will be due at the end of the week as well,” she reminded.

The class groaned in unison.

They were soon led through the ‘Imperial Russia’ section of the museum by a theatrical tour guide. At the very least he made all the historical artwork interesting. For all her skill on the ice, walking and filling out a worksheet proved to be rather challenging. Because of that Vera ended up trailing at the tail of her class.

“Look at that girl!” The tone was an excited hush that unfortunately drifted across the room anyway. “I think that’s Yuratchka’s-”  

Vera made the mistake of looking up and making eye contact with two older teenagers across the room. Huge grins spread across their faces.

“Oh no,” she muttered.

Vera had been recognized a couple times while at novice competitions to cheer on Anya, but she’d never been randomly recognized like this. She was left stunned as the two Angels descended.

“You’re Vera Kotova, right?!”

“Y-yeah.”

The Angels brightened, while a couple of her nearest classmates were giving them curious looks.

“Aww, you are adorable!” One squeed.

“Can we get a selfie with you?” The other asked, already pulling out her phone.

“Um-” Vera glanced to her teacher, who had definitely noticed the commotion and looked ready to intervene.

“We’ll be quick! I promise!” She said before quickly posinh beside Vera. The other Angel joined them. Habit caused Vera to smile at the camera as the Angel clicked a photo.

“There we go! Thank you!”

“We can’t wait to see both you and Yuratchka skate at the Grand Prix Finals!”  

“Ahem,” Vera’s teacher cleared her throat as she walked over. The Angels withered under her stern old lady glare.    

* * *

* * *

Instead of escaping out the door the second the teacher released them from school, half the class converged toward Vera’s desk. She’d already answered a few questions after those Angels left, but their teacher had managed to reroute the focus back to their field trip. However, now all those questions were coming out at a rapid pace. Vera tried her best to answer all the questions.

“Is figure skating why you were absent the end of last week?”

“Yeah, I was in France competing.”

“That’s cool!”

“Did you win?”

“I got second,” Vera replied.

“Wow.”

“That’s really good, isn’t it? Silver at an international competition.”

“Here I thought you were really shy or something because you never wanted to hangout after school,” a girl said, “But you’re off doing awesome athlete stuff.”

“I practice every day after school,” Vera said with a nod, “I have to be at the rink soon. Coach Yakov will yell if I’m late.”

She grabbed her bag and then waited for the small crowd to part for her. They got the hint soon enough. Vera waved as she walked out the door.

Vera was happy for the jog to the rink. It wasn’t that she minded her class finding out about her figure skating. She’d never specifically hidden it. It just never came up before because she was always too busy (with figure skating) to really talk to her classmates.

She made it to the building as a group of young beginner skaters were walking out with their parents. Vera caught the door and slipped inside before heading toward the rink Coach Yakov typically reserved for them.

The moment she stepped inside the room, Vera’s eyes were pulled to the ice. Yuri was doing a run through of the choreography for his short program. His blades cut into the ice as he suddenly jerked in the opposite direction. His movements were almost frantic and sharpened by the edge of anger.

Vera may have been first entranced by Agape, but Yuri was better known for this sort of skating. Skating that was driven by more fiery emotions. To be able to transform anger and spite into something beautiful… Yuri was truly amazing.

Reaching the end of the choreography, Yuri came to a still in his finishing pose. Then, after a moment to catch his breath, he glided over to where Coach Yakov was standing rinkside. Vera skipped over while they talked about which jumps should be in the short program. Yuri reached out over the rink wall and ruffled her hair once she was close enough.

“Where those Angels nice to you, Verushka?” He asked, frowning.

Vera wasn’t dumb or oblivious. Even before she’d started skating competitively, she knew of the sub-sec of Angels that were a little too fanatic and had went so far as to stalk Yuri in the past. However, Yuri’s fans had been nothing but kind to her, almost overwhelmingly, so she didn’t get why Yuri worried whenever she got recognized.  

“The Angels are always nice to me.”

“They better be,” Yuri grumbled in reply before skating over to the rink opening and stepping off the ice.

“Vera,” Coach Yakov said, turning to her, “We’re going to have a visitor during your practice. A new sponsor for you. So behave today.”

Vera only heard the ‘sponsor’ part, her face lighting up.

“Seriously?!”

“Don’t be so surprised, kid,” Yuri said as he came back over after switching skates for shoes, “You started the season by nearly beating a Junior World Champion. More of the big brands are noticing you now.”

There was an unspoken ‘ _about time_ ’ in his tone. However, Vera completely missed it in her excitement.

“Which company?! Will I get to be in an ad?!”

“We’ll discuss it when they get here. You need to go change and stretch.”

“Okay, Coach!” Vera replied before practically bouncing toward the locker rooms.

* * *

The whole ordeal turned out much more boring than Vera thought. The lady representing a brand for athletic clothes came in part-way through her practice. Vera got to talk to her briefly, putting on her best behavior just like Coach Yakov told her (at least three times). Then the lady and Yakov disappeared into his office to talk contract and other boring sounding stuff.

Meanwhile, Vera continued practice under Yuri’s watchful eyes. Coach Yakov had given him very clear orders to “keep her from pulling any stupid stunts”.

Vera huffed thinking about it. It was like Coach Yakov didn’t trust her!

“I wouldn’t know why. It’s not like you’ve ever sneaked out in the middle of the night to practice jumps alone,” Yuri stated like a mind reader.

“That was… different.”

“Umhmm.” He pulled out his phone and started texting, probably Otabek or Mila. Maybe both. “Your free leg is sloppy.”

“You’re not even looking.”

Yuri glanced up. “Still sloppy.”

Vera groaned but tried again.

“That’s better.”

Vera finished her basic drills and then began going through her free skate step sequence. While she could skate it (obviously), she was still working on perfecting her footwork. Yuri continued messing around on his phone but paid enough attention to call out tidbits of advice.

“Mila wants to use you getting a sponsor as an excuse for a cheat day,” Yuri told her when she took a short break.  

Vera grinned. “Can we get ice cream?”  

* * *

[image: group selfie of Mila, Yuri, and Vera with ice cream cones]

m-babicheva posted: Cheat day! Don’t tell Yakov!

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* * *

Vera opened her bedroom door and dropped her bag to the floor before collapsing on her bed. She laid there a few minutes as the temptation to fall asleep then and there hovered over her. Then with a heavy sigh she rolled back off the bed, landing softly on her feet, and went back to her bookbag. Soon she settled at her desk with homework sheets and textbooks scattered across.

About an hour and a half later she’d completed the museum essay and a math assignment. She didn’t have to worry about English homework because she was still ahead on her work for that subject. English was the one subject that she was undoubtedly the top of her class; all thanks to knowing it would be a necessity for her figure skating career. All her other subjects were just passable enough that Coach Yakov wasn’t breathing down her neck.

“Maybe now that I’m getting more sponsors,” Vera thought aloud, “I can get a private tutor and not have to worry about school…”

It was a nice idea. She’d have to mention it to Coach Yakov, though it was likely that he was already considering it. Both Yuri and Mila had finished their secondary education that way.

Vera finished placing her books and papers back into her backpack before checking the time. There was still about thirty minutes before she had to go to bed. Vera grinned brightly as she snatched her handheld game system (a birthday gift from Yuri) and hopped onto her bed. For the past few months she’s been very, very slowly playing through the newest Pokemon game. Vera lounged on her bed as she continued where she’d left off last time.

Unfortunately she wasn’t able to get much farther in just thirty minutes, but by the time she had to save and set the game aside Vera felt relaxed. She yawned while stretching her arms high and bending her back.

The day had been expectantly hectic but in a good way. Now it was time to change into pajamas and then sleep before starting all over again tomorrow morning. However, a sudden noise interrupted before she could get up.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Vera dug for her phone, which had ended up buried somewhere beneath her nest of blankets and pillows. Who would call this time of night? It wasn’t like Yuri or anyone to call her in the evening. Anya knew she would be going to bed soon. Phillipe didn’t make sense either; international phone calls were expensive. It was easier to keep up with each other via social media.

“There you are!” Vera said as she triumphantly pulled out her buzzing phone from under a pillow.  

She then flipped it over to answer, but froze at the caller ID display: Mom

Her phone continued ringing in her hand. Vera knew she should answer and yet… and yet…

The ringing stopped. Vera stared at her phone, a small part of herself wondering if she’d been working too hard and that this was some sort of hallucination. However, the missed call notification stared in her face. A few moments later a voicemail notification popped up as well.

Vera steeled herself before hitting play.

“Vera.” Her mother’s voice sounded strained. “I- I saw that you have a competition in Saransk. I thought maybe I could come. I’ll call your coach and figure out the details. I just wanted to let you know first. I’ll…We’ll talk another time.”

As the voicemail cut off, Vera was left with one thought: _Why now?_


End file.
